I have a thousand faces
Some I paint, some I mark and others I burn…
If a face thinks he is better than the next one
He can whisper it in my deaf right ear
Didn’t you know the left is always right?
Whispers can be dangerous
You can never really decipher them like you can never understand how faces emote
Smite the faces !
Cover them with the blood of revolutionaries
But the faces rise again
one after the other
till you lose count
Take up every face and you can see defeat etched onto it
Still you persist..
Why?
Because life is about living
The product is about the process
But if certain faces come back to torment you
Remember man is history
You can’t pluck a face out of all
You can’t speak to him alone
It won’t whisper to you like before
Whispers are collective
There are ghosts within ghosts
Life is but mourning for faces
Some bleed.
Some remain silent.
Some never shut up.
