You wish you could write your bloodlust away
Bellowing with fake promises and proposals
But wait till we write history.
You fill it with horror, with hatred and anger
We fill it with hope.
Distilled, in the same bullets you throw at us.

You will not succeed.

The future of our history is ours for the taking
And yours to repent.

You will not succeed.

And repent you will
Till the wee hours of the morning
When you open your eyes
Look outside your window
And see
Us, holding hands, yelling words of hope
For this is love.
What you shall never understand.
And then you will wish
That you could write your bloodlust away
But we will write history
We already are
With none of your help.

Eshna Benegal is a chronic overthinker, amateur writer, passionate dancer and also, she studies filmmaking.

Featured image credit: Unsplash

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