No Glory, No Story

When something becomes wrong on many levels
Does it become right
Earn collective approval
Mass hallucinatory acceptance
Blind impotent recognition
Spineless, toothless consent
Mob memory amnesia
Communal dementia?

The types where not just the lips are sealed shut and heads bowed low
Where hands are tied behind the back
And eyes glazed over,
Where voices are quelled
Shoulders drooped
But the type where right and wrong get interspersed
Become the same side of the coin
So no one can tell them apart
The two opposite ends meet in a successful physics-defying move
The dimensions become snarled
Until all logic appears to be a hot mess.

But I am expected to end on a positive note
Poets and writers are meant to be the voice of the meek
And are burdened with the weight of showing optimism toward humanity
Torchbearers must lead civilisation to light
But today, I sit, uninspired
And shall leave the hope-laden words for another day
Today, I sit back and watch the world
As it falls deeper into an abyss
And takes me down with it.

Shefali Nautiyal believes in the magic of words. She believes in stories, fairy tales, poetry, and uses these mediums to constantly escape from the real world. Her first book, an anthology of poems titled ‘Unwoven‘ was released in June this year. Her second book, a verse novel titled ‘Gathering Dreams at Dusk’ has just been released this month. 

Featured image: Pablo García Saldaña / Unsplash