i live with ghosts
they show me thier colors
they show me their bones
people think i am liar
but still the story goes

some lie to me and some weep and cry
but they know they can't hide the truth from me
no matter how fake they go.
they get my sympathy,my love and my tears.
they lived their lives faking
and so now their bones rest in dirt
they live with me in peace
and this is their only choice
because if they kill me,then nothing real is left for them to see.

when i met them for the first time
they ruined everything around me
they thought i was just another dirty soul who could be one of them.
but they were wrong.

Now they speak thier rythm with thier bones.
their music saves me.

i would cut my vien open and bleed.
but i bleed from my soul for you.
the musician have cried and died for you
cause they couldn't handle the pain in you

they saw the world from a different angle and so the view.
the world cursed them but they didn't knew.
that people are people just like me and you.
the musicians,the politicians are the people among you.

your society you hate only reaps you what you have sown.
ignore it as much as you want,till your grave if it pleases you.
but this is the hardest truth which can break your bones.
and lie in dust with all the other ghosts.

A boy was lost in the city.
hungry in the cold,no hope of getting home it seemed.
his clothes were all dirty,his hair long and dusty.
an innocent face of a mad-man,the city men would say.

Home seemed a distant dream.
his fears had come alive.but no one would believe.
how could they?why would they?
death roamed the city among the ordinary buildings and roads of a daily-life.
how the extra-ordinary things which he never noticed of life passed over his eyes, today.

He could not believe the truth, so seldomn and serene.
a glimpse of which could clean the dirtiest of beings.
though the hell is real, he knows.he sees with his own eyes,
the eyes of those who have fallen,filled with anger and agony.
the corruption scatters through the ones who are ignorant,he knew.

his eyes ready to cry but he could not,he will not.
his songs his only hope.
jesus and buddha are gone for now, he knows.
but hope dies hard in a believers heart,it shows.

the pain reaches each others heart.
the brotherhood of man is long forgotten though, he knows.
but could there still be hope.
could odds favor the trodden?
could the gods be real?if not,but just for today.if he believes?

Can the heavens clear darkest skies?
can the colours fill his eyes?
The beautiful moon shows.
A long lamp in a martyr's park,a symbol of hope.it glows.

He sat under the ancient bodhi tree in the park.his only adobe.
enemies had guns he knew and powers of goverment could stomp an easy ant.
but still can the flower of friendship bloom in an enemy's heart?
the hate is a dirty beast he knew.

the destiny of never getting home,now seemed a matter of inevitable fate.
but some truths are lies in disguise, he knew.
the illusion of fate and destiny are hard to break.
the treading of the path, is the chance he has to take.
the ancient sun glows inside his heart, and
his naked feet are ready to walk with scars.

the darkest hours come to take part,
but the fears can't touch his burning heart.
the devil shows him his sublime dance in the last of darkest hours.
he troubled the arts,
and he saw the greatest burning of agony in hearts.

he reached his home.
he walks the path to brighter days ahead........he goes.
he flows like a river with endless hope,
but only a fewer are knowledgebale,it seems.
the river is ancient,it flows within
The Truth he knows.