and the last joke had seen its last laugh
The last glass of brandy had been served
and the solemn chambers now stood still
The frenzy that had once endured
The chaos that had once ensued
Had taken its rightful place
Deep in the heart of the ocean
No one knew how or where it began
it all happened so suddenly
Hindsight is great, when the dust has settled
but foresight always seizes the day
It started as a bump in the road
Causing fear amongst the paranoid
Reality crept in like a maiden’s sleep
slowly… and then all at once
The first sacrifice would be made
by those who had nothing to lose
By the time we realized what was worth saving
it was too late for anything to be saved
The survivors knew what to do
till all hope was lost
The privileged few would of course get through
for their destinies were not written by God’s hand
The eerie calm that follows
would be the only evidence of the madness that once was
Every light and every laugh and every song and every story
was now shrouded with memories that haunted
A little mistake along the road
a little carelessness we couldn’t control
A little desperateness of the human soul
a little opportunity we sought to hold
When we knew not of what the future would bring
and lived each day to fight another
We knew not when pain and suffering would peak
and long held on to denial’s heel
When humanity was tested to show its colors
what it would do when the chips go down
Because madness you see, is like gravity
all it takes is a little push
In midst of the madness, four gentlemen came to pass
they brought out their orchestra, and continued the dance
A silent echo that reverberates through time
when the ship was sinking, the band kept its chime
The band played on through the wreckage
and continued till the last night came to pass
When there would be no more music and no more dance
but memories would stay, with the lucky ones who passed
And poems would be written, of times when they should’ve been heard
but they did not care, for they’d done their work
So in the final moments, they continued the message
not that it mattered anymore, but was their journey
Peril is bequeathed, when artists are ignored
and artists shoulder the task, of spreading the thoughts
Through canvas and paper and screens and sound
for an artist’s expression is varied and abound
But this message is spread and the work here is done
so we move to a different time in a different world
The last word, I must stand up and cry
Gentlemen, it has been a privilege, to play by your side
Vishal Gupta
21 Mar 2020
