Revelation

We are the bad child of their dreams,
We turnt roses to red,
We made news on a rainy day,
We sent flames when words were less.

We got burnt by the midnight oil,
We got butchered in the shadows,
Their hopes tainted us,
Unclad, we dwell, across misty meadows.

We are the insignificantly significant others,
Poets of the future,
Whisperers of the past,
Mercenaries of our present,
A better side that lasts.

We are the voice of a lonely day,
Indelible memory of an honoured stay,
We remembered to forget,
The things they couldn't say,
We are the ones who moved on,
Before they called it a day.

It's only human.

Oshan