NOT FOR MINORS

Meet me in the presence of many,
Dilute me in different ways.
Meet me less, not all at once...
Meet me once in several days.

Once you have the right to vote,
Come see me, we might just talk
Pursue things that you know of...
You should know what you stalk.

Meet me less, not all at once...
Too much me won't be that sweet.
Meet me in the presence of many,
Alone, pure, I am absolute neat.

- Rishiraj

POST ALL

When the cities burn
When people feed on each other
When we pay a long postponed visit to the stone age
Many will fall
like sacks of grain
And many will be fed upon
Smoke will arise
from collective graves
or uncovered bodies
possibly one of them yours
I will stay
I'll live on
I have to rule the aftermath

THE MAPS MUST GO

I do admit that it's all insane
boundless heat and constant pain
There scorching sun, there rain
All efforts totally going in vain

But you can alter just your maps
To match truly with the terrain
The roads can't be changed for maps
New roads found, and the old remain

If the ground gets too confusing
And the maps no longer discern
Trust the ground and move forth
The maps must go, let them burn

YESTERYEARS V

You are the compassion showered from above,
You are the blessing hand of love,
You are the touch of extreme care,
You are nothing but a prayer,
I want to sing you, yes, I cry...
How can I sing you? Who am I?

YESTERYEARS IV

Can't do otherwise, we just fly
We are birds in the sky
Seeing the world below us thorough
With faded boundaries of sorrow
We fly from a place to another
But though, for a while, we fly together
At last we must fly alone
...that no land is our own

YESTERYEARS III

A losing body suffering loss
A wriggling body on the cross
A skinned body without a doubt
A body tortured inside out
A body that is mutilated
A body that is not cremated
A crippled body lacking charm
A headless body bleeding warm
Is what you get when you walk
Without a halt on the way of truth

YESTERYEARS II

In the desert this endless thirst...

Bleeding feet, bodies in dust...

Can't walk more, we are so hurt,

Life making the final effort...

On the faces many a scar.

Bruised and broken we both are.

Too difficult, there's no doubt...

Death is here, dancing about...

Death within and death without,

There is only one way out: 

Together, side by side, we stand.

Walk with me, give me your hand...

And there won't be a suffering anymore.

And there will be a celebration very pure.

And it will be a carnival rather.

And by and by we'll reach together.