This world is enchanted with mysteries,
Beauty that lies in pain and sorrow.
“What is art?”, the layman asks,
History proclaims of it to be a captive’s morrow.
The imagination that lies beyond the reach
Is notified as profound by worthy scholars.
But only a realize its power,
To suffocate the prisoners under weight of them collars.
Freedom lies captive in the hands of those who fail to understand,
All the wisdom passed on from generations,
Has somehow mixed up with the sand.
People hail in the name of god to bring an end to all the sufferings,
The creator becomes the created when all their beliefs lie rusting.
A little change in perspective is all that one needs,
to bring power to every word that one ever reads.