“The clouds cleared, but there is no sign of sky
The Sun shines, still the darkness rules
The birds chirp, out of agony
The branches sway, but there is no beat
The birds fly of the chaos
Children play, there seem to be no fun
A lass smiled, there was no life
The plane takes off and fly high but whats the point?
The road is busy with traffic where cops keep on clearing the crowd but still it appears empty
Buildings are built high but there is no sight of a tree
People cross each other but there is no smile or any sign of acquaintance
There is light, but it’s gradually fading
There is life all around but still it all appears dead”
All these would have been a way opposite if I looked at it in a happier way. This explains what art is. Everything we look, everything we hear, everything we feel, all these are based on our own perspective, there is no use or it is simply lame blaming things around and comforting self with a lie.
a Self Prosecutor