Ravindranath Kunnath
Ravindranath Kunnath
Slaves
When it sleep in the books Or,age old torn manuscripts Its a time Without criticism From the walls of a bygone time Spartacas mourn and waving his hands over the pages of modern interpretations. It was yestetaday So as today Winds of fire on hearts Lay as if in a fools heaven. Slaves Search for them Gladiators of moderera responed No search is necessary They are here Here on the markets, Where they stood as dolls to hug and to beat and to klll Oh!there a bus wait It is the bus on the city of hi-tech humanity Where love and songs of unity All used to dance And fly on to ths heights In it The names inscribed in the old orthodox minds prohibited A little girl asked her teacber; Who are slaves Its old Who are modern slaves If you think more about ths conditions of you And respond Or If you protest by believing followers are beside you You are a slave Dear Now all are easy to delete.
