Emotions

Oh my young brave men

What do you think you are,

You boast on your muscularity

Which goes frail in time so far.

What do you call yourself

Man of intellect, a tempting impulse,

You are nothing but an impotent

Machine runs on Electrical pulse.

Is it your bright and gleamy skin

Which makes you feel so proud,

Where you think your pride goes

When it is shriveled and subdued.

All your glamour and your gifts

None stays on your dying bed,

Life is like a boat goes adrift

Until Emotions play in the end.

I taught you to love so to cry but

you called me an Imbalanced mind,

you are just a pawn left to die

It's your emotions you leave behind.

Yet you treat me like an orphan

You Blame me for your weakness,

But It is me, who keeps you alive

I am your emotions which you despise.

Oh my young brave men

Who do you think you are,

A Victim of your own genius,

A soulless Frankenstein you are.