Sight

I see the battered memories,
On a sky of chastised denial.
Speckled like the auburn dust
On a sea of wanton betrayal.

I see the dreams of most beings,
Enveloped by a night : An end.
Broken grounds to tread upon,
And broken spirits to befriend.

I see all glory compromised
To fulfill a sinful greed.
The accomplishments of the ages,
Forsaken in times of need.

I see the torn fragments,
Of a life that none shall find.
And so I watch, and wonder If this is sight,
I would rather be amongst the blind.

By,
Nikhil Menon