Its been a bit longer than a year since I posted my last poem. Have been busy with many things in life. I am an engineer now! I have also started working at Accenture from this October 23rd in their Bengaluru facility. Hoping at least from now on, I can post things frequently. Here goes the first of the many to come!!
A little backstory about this poem: it was during last year's distressful moments of my life I had written this poem. But over the months I have realized that this is relevant to many scenarios I had not in mind while writing it. It was Linkin Park's "Rebellion" song from their 'The Hunting Party' album that partly motivated me to write this poem. So it seemed apt to name it the same as the title of the song.
Also while I am writing this, four months have passed from the day Chester Bennington left us. It feels pretty sad that we won't be able to listen to new songs in his powerful voice anymore. Linkin Park's songs were the first English songs I had listened to in my teenage years and the band was first on the list of my favorite band ever since. Although I didn't understand all the lyrics of 'In the end' and 'Breaking the habit' then, it was still inspiring and had motivated me. Even now when I listen to their songs, I feel glad that that theirs were the songs I first listened to. His was the voice that nudged me to traverse the 'Roads Untraveled' when I was 'Numb' from all the pressure around and helped me keep going. Thank you for everything!! R.I.P. Chester :(
You trampled us,
Burned us to the ground
Smothered our voice by violence,
Against the coffin doors, our hand's pound.
Buried in pages of history,
Is not our sad story
Your mistake is what caused this misery
The debacle that you thought to be sultry.
Burnt our lands, homes, and our faith,
Streets ran red, in blood they did bathe.
For you'll never have to see us again;
To haunt you in your dreams
Or to disturb your sound sleep.
But: we eventually will.
And when that day comes,
You'll think why you're alive still.
That day will mark our new suns.
So bright and powerful, singeing eyelashes.
We will free our land, from filth; with besoms.
Beware that day-of dire rebellions and drums.
On that day, dear Evil :
There will be slashes,
And we will have risen from the same ashes.
From the ground, you trampled us on,
There shall be a renegade's dawn.
To lash out at the bricks of fear and death,
The maelstrom; our sigh, our breath.
Smothered our voice by violence,
Against the coffin doors, our hand's pound.
Buried in pages of history,
Is not our sad story
Your mistake is what caused this misery
The debacle that you thought to be sultry.
Burnt our lands, homes, and our faith,
Streets ran red, in blood they did bathe.
For you'll never have to see us again;
To haunt you in your dreams
Or to disturb your sound sleep.
But: we eventually will.
And when that day comes,
You'll think why you're alive still.
That day will mark our new suns.
So bright and powerful, singeing eyelashes.
We will free our land, from filth; with besoms.
Beware that day-of dire rebellions and drums.
On that day, dear Evil :
There will be slashes,
And we will have risen from the same ashes.
From the ground, you trampled us on,
There shall be a renegade's dawn.
To lash out at the bricks of fear and death,
The maelstrom; our sigh, our breath.
