My Lyrical Journey of Soulful Rhymes

Beneath the stones where Delhi holds its breath, At Jantar Mantar, banners rise and sway. Young voices gather, mocking fear and death— Not of the flesh, but of the truth’s decay. The Cockroach Janta crawls against the tide, Small, fierce, unbowed, through thickets of the crowd, While Rahul, Priyanka stand side by side, Though gagged by power, brave and unbowed. For ministers who count their gold by night Have sold the halls where wisdom used to grow, And meet a peaceful march with force and fright, As if a simple question were their foe. So let the drums at Jantar strike and ring: When power buys, the youth shall teach the king.

  What if the emerald field were Rome once more, a modern circus crowned with light and flame? What if the cheers concealed a deeper roar, while countless hearts were drawn into the game? What if each anthem stirred the soul by art, each banner waved to guide the watching throng? What if the match were theatre at heart, its triumphs timed to keep the crowd lifelong? What if, like WWE beneath the lights, each twist were known before the whistle's call? What if rehearsed became our fiercest fights, yet none perceived the script behind it all? What if we watched while others shaped our sight? Yet still Spain, Argentina, and England shine bright. © 2026 Pastor Emmanuel Serto