The Unheard Voices

When the light of the heart ignites ,

Who can firefight it ? We fighters.

The panicking-bricks upon the heart,

To be rested without jerk ,an impossible task ,it is ! 

The underground city which conceals in half-revealing faces ,

The life's untouched, justice an occasion,

In treachery and unlimited drudgery .

They break often under quakes of horror.

Spilt personality they veil .

All adult-children, brave bendings.

In illegal tents, ultra-heavy carpets; 

Mealed on edge of starvation,

Not edge of life ,as they need to survive,

As they have some mouths to fed ,

And sing of dreary winter, not costly summer .

The involuntary veil of patriarchy,

Squashed night-mare of desires.

Who cares? Light won't be lit.

It has also not been shut down absolutely, there's time of hope .

The dense vegetation of love in weakness , there's still dreams flowering

The way is but different,

I'm still waiting for voices to be heard .

Not listened still, slowly and surely!