“All I ever wanted in my life was to love without grief,
To live without the invisible hand around my neck for a brief,
To rise above from the thorns of the rose,
To be loved without the “but”s and the “no”s.

I want run away from the gun that’s pointing at my head,
even if it meant I’m dead.
But do I deserve it?
Do I deserve the peace that death offers?
Or will my sins be much greater?

If my sins win and I’m left down here alone,
What will I feel if there is no grief?
What do I hold on to, if the hands were removed ?
What will I look into if the guns were gone?

I’m left with the mirrors of darkness alone.
Should I adore the things that are being portrayed,
or should I see them as weapons in disguise? “

– Ishwarya. B