The south of vindhyas hold deepest of secrets. The island of India hit the mainland and created the snow covered mountains. yet the vindhyas never ever shook a single bit. There was something brewing far far ago; In this sun beaten land; covered in black gold.
The visitors flew by in their shiny ships; stopped by and atop arunachala took their masks off; and took deadly sips; of the plants present in abundance. The south of vindhyas took hold of these creatures from another world. They sat and contemplated on the wonder that was truly the subcontinent; for eons in silence and in awe. The magical skies from the island that was India took their breadth away!
The time passed not here; Where the tip met the oceans, Where the jungles vast and untarnished grew in their mystical nature. The sun couldn't penetrate their depths. In time what was; could simply pass as something which just could not be.
The blacker soil redemption in nature. Its dirt pulsed through the veins. Man beast and god became a slave to this lands eternal strange fate. The underground pulsed with murkier visions. The skies poured the never ending rain. The blacker soil of Deccan gave this world the first glimpse of divinities gain.
Solitude and remorse went hand in hand; as the idols of the alien gods darkened like the soil; gained demand. Though they still remain under the impenetrable rain forest cover; hidden with brimming nectar still ages old.
The story of the blacker reign still to this day unfolds.
I hold the darker soil in my hand, wishing that it taught me wisdom and command. It soaked me with its warm embrace. From the seas to the ghats to the plateau all at one place. It showed me patience and justice to those unjust. It asked nothing and gave everything to quench this thirst; where my generations are buried, where I shall be asking myself to be buried in turn... The soil asks nothing; gave everything for my burial in turn.
Every night I wake up in the dirt covered to my nose. The black soil of the Deccan; its reaped way more than I had ever sowed. The sensations covered deep within my heart; beats and beckons to become one; one again with this wise old black gold.
The visitors flew by in their shiny ships; stopped by and atop arunachala took their masks off; and took deadly sips; of the plants present in abundance. The south of vindhyas took hold of these creatures from another world. They sat and contemplated on the wonder that was truly the subcontinent; for eons in silence and in awe. The magical skies from the island that was India took their breadth away!
The time passed not here; Where the tip met the oceans, Where the jungles vast and untarnished grew in their mystical nature. The sun couldn't penetrate their depths. In time what was; could simply pass as something which just could not be.
The blacker soil redemption in nature. Its dirt pulsed through the veins. Man beast and god became a slave to this lands eternal strange fate. The underground pulsed with murkier visions. The skies poured the never ending rain. The blacker soil of Deccan gave this world the first glimpse of divinities gain.
Solitude and remorse went hand in hand; as the idols of the alien gods darkened like the soil; gained demand. Though they still remain under the impenetrable rain forest cover; hidden with brimming nectar still ages old.
The story of the blacker reign still to this day unfolds.
I hold the darker soil in my hand, wishing that it taught me wisdom and command. It soaked me with its warm embrace. From the seas to the ghats to the plateau all at one place. It showed me patience and justice to those unjust. It asked nothing and gave everything to quench this thirst; where my generations are buried, where I shall be asking myself to be buried in turn... The soil asks nothing; gave everything for my burial in turn.
Every night I wake up in the dirt covered to my nose. The black soil of the Deccan; its reaped way more than I had ever sowed. The sensations covered deep within my heart; beats and beckons to become one; one again with this wise old black gold.
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