Where to start?
A broken heart,
cloudy skies,
blinded eyes,
hollow bones,
anxious tones,
a shaking hand,
a crumbling land,
an empty head,
I should be dead.
Trembling legs,
throat of gags,
roughed lips,
unused hips,
frail arms,
can do no harm.
Nothing left,
a torn cleft,
loss of scent,
my life is spent.
A black abyss,
the forgotten kiss,
shallow breath,
I’m close to death,
frigid tongue,
my life is hung.
Said my goodbyes,
my body dies.
A living hell,
this empty shell,
many tears,
for you, my dear.
Save my please!
From this disease.
Fuck my sorrow,
on the morrow,
don’t let me go,
down below.
Pick me up,
help me sup,
I’m on my knees!
Forgive me?
Please…
Revenge Remains
Revenge sweet turning with hate
a brother rises striking blows
landing hits brother in wicked deeds
evilness within mans own soul
Cruelty crawling inside desires
suffering greed of nations they plea
Rise up against nations man at war
tearing asunder God’s creation
People slowly murdering loveless
Pride a sinful act of violence
laced with pain destroying pure love
everything that once stood out housed peace
so fine cut beautiful, good sharing
caring free, in this one, big show rolls
Keeps turning, the wheel of hope
whom will speak, as we all become part
of his heavenly dust in the end
or burning remains of hell’s fire
Famous Arrogance
He finds repression
Skinned naked
By depression
In ultimate digression
Healed by succession
Only cheated by obsession
Fooled by impression
In every session
He burns confession
Hated for his transgression
In ultimate digestion
He finds progression
He finds repression
Skinned naked
By depression
In ultimate digression
Cut by oppression
Cheated by misconception
Fooled by concession
He burns mental possession.
A brief of music-tech in India
Music technology has changed drastically over post covid due to the high rate of adoption. There were days when Youtube was the only source of music content for consumers post-internet breakthrough. This industry was heavily dependent on digital media giants like apple, youtube and some independent sources apart from that through physical formats as compact discs and cassettes, then singular adopted mobile apps changed it all, and the latter which became own one of its industries. Now digital music formats have taken over the global market with monetizable models of earning through per album sell out or SAAS Streaming sell out. The main change was brought about by the launch of Spotify, a global open platform for music streaming pushing AI based recommendations based on music behaviour unique for users and other audiences. Soon after that, most of the music streaming applications scaled with recommendations and music category and music artists. These technological advancements brought about change in the way music is made, consumed and was sold out. People could carry entire music catalogues, playlists and more than creating and sell within these applications. Now we have multiple music streaming platforms that can be accessed with a single click. Online music streaming has been rising in India due to an increase in the usage of smartphones and JIO’s Free Internet adoption this industry boomed.
Today, more people have access to smartphones due to their low price and hence, affordability. Also, data costs are dirt cheap which brings more people each day onto the digital space and music space. Music Tech has multiple offerings to consumers across various sell outs. Brands run on various business models. One is the free model where ads run at regular intervals. The second is the paid model which is ad-free. Then is the hybrid model which is a combination of the two. The majority of the revenues in the streaming music industry come from ad-supported models because their volumes of it are significantly higher. In India, more than 4,000 million streams run every month across all music platforms.
New brands are being launched with each passing quarter. Hence, this industry is becoming more and more competitive with each passing day as brands fight for market share.
Sample design for a Music App:
The Dying Child
He could not die when trees were green,
For he loved the time too well.
His little hands, when flowers were seen,
Were held for the bluebell,
As he was carried o’er the green.
His eye glanced at the white-nosed bee;
He knew those children of the spring:
When he was well and on the lea
He held one in his hands to sing,
Which filled his heart with glee.
Infants, the children of the spring!
How can an infant die
When butterflies are on the wing,
Green grass, and such a sky?
How can they die at spring?
He held his hands for daisies white,
And then for violets blue,
And took them all to bed at night
That in the green fields grew,
As childhood’s sweet delight.
And then he shut his little eyes,
And flowers would notice not;
Birds’ nests and eggs caused no surprise,
He now no blossoms got;
They met with plaintive sighs.
When winter came and blasts did sigh,
And bare were plain and tree,
As he for ease in bed did lie
His soul seemed with the free,
He died so quietly.
Isolated Sleep
Let isolation and solitude
sleep in the arms of passion,
while I cry
in melting walls of silent screams.
Just be patient when you’re lost
in quietness and surrounded by idiocy
shouting the rectitude of our voices.
Let me go through their minds, a journey !
Let isolation and solitude
sleep in the arms of love,
while I weep verses of sorrow and blame.
I guess I’m just too young for that.
I need more time to perceive myself.
I need more time to perceive
I need more time.
I know them already. I feel I know.
I don’t know…
While my dreams come true,
reckless visions of my love
will turn out to be deaf, blind belief!
Trust Becomes Betrayal
Life is full of unexpected things,
Luckily, you can be friends with your enemies;
Unfortunately, your friends turn to be your enemies.
See, life is full of surprises.
Funny it may seems, and at the same time,
It will hurt you truly.
I’ve been hurt so many times in my life
That made me trust less,
And doubt more with the people surrounding me.
If I could only turn back time
To where I was once knew how to trust whole-heartedly.
To the time, I was still little, innocent and loving.
To the picture of scene where I thought it was,
The happiest and wholly part of my existence.
But now that I’m all grown up, I realize it was all lies.
And the scene, where I thought it was the most precious,
Happiest moment of my solitary life;
Behind that was the shedding of tears of my most precious one,
At the back of it, was sorrow and pain,
Anguish and misery, and betrayal;
Of the people I treasured and trusted most.
Dream to Nightmare
Broken window shows each dream
Shattered lie you can’t redeem
A wish upon a twisted heart
Diamond lie that ripped apart
Shards of truth a pane of glass
A broken dream that came to pass
A teardrop fallen in the rain
An unseen symbol of your pain
A silver thread upon the ground
Of lost hopes that couldn’t be found
A web of lies and deceit
Twisted from each defeat
Bound by hatred from a flame
Burning bright, turning the blame
Blood red tears that fall right through
Showing all that wasn’t true
A dream twisted to the end
A lie to truth from which you bend
A cold hatred from above
Back to silence shattered by love
A dreaming wish fallen from a heart
As each lie rips it apart
A teardrop falls from each eye
A wish that came in the form of a lie
Hopes that shattered upon the floor
Lies that were hidden behind a door
A dreaming eye that went unseen
Reliving everything had it been
A wish each year to have it sell
Your secrets that you can not tell
Hidden by all yet free to see
Each truth, lie, dream and wish as they be
To turn them back, a nightmare made
Losing battles, memories fade
And hopes and dreams are sold away
A lie born into a day
A reality turned back on you
From a truth they never knew
Careful all, for you will see
That secrets and dreams aren’t safe to be
They take your dream, twist it around
Shatter the memories upon the ground
Whisked away by just one scream
They give you back your twisted dream
But when they do, this I tell
Your dream in exchange for a nightmare is what you sell!
Early Absolution
I’m in a room without recovery area:
a room of intermission, a room
of collapse. Where are
the convenient little windows
to release a wicked bird of thought?
The quiet there is monk-like,
rogue, and slightly unpleasant, guilty
of moments spent with shadow.
I want to build a clock
that ticks once a year
—more dark than shark,
my confessional capacity
—time-stretched,
like the heavy intoxicated
of the witching hour. And I’ll
make soup from the leftover prayers
of the day before, all in hopes
the rooms of me, then so clear,
will one day be faraway suns
in the temple of heaven
Dying February
Though Winter still asserts his right to reign,
He sways his sceptre now with gentler hand;
Nay, sometimes softens to a zephyr bland
The hurrying blast, which erst along the plain
Drove the skin-piercing sleet and pelting rain
In headlong rage; while, ever and anon,
He draws aside his veil of vapours dun,
That the bright sun may smile on us again.
That the mild spirit of the infant Spring
Was brooding o’er the spots where hidden lie
Such early flowers as are the first to fling
On earth’s green lap their wreaths of various dye—
Flowers, round whose forms sweet hopes and sweeter memories cling.
Mohammad Jazim 