The wise men desert the promised land,Monsoon glooms and deferred

Happy tearslusty dewdropsa distant conch shellmatched with too near moansa

I am not a Trojan horse,neither are you the Hellenic

A knot in the gutTangled thread looseningserpent broodingin summer hibernation.The

The temple bells have long been gonethe fiery pyre turned

Amidst midnight blues,Borrowed puffs of breath, unceremonious wrinkled sheetAnd curled up

Strangers in love Under spells of blue Distanced from earth

A locked door,Bolted safe from inside,away from prying eyes.Hands reaching

Sometimes the nights get too darkUnlit clouds glide through new

Mists morphing into imagesOf seamless illusionsNight morphing into morning’sAssisted breathingMetaphors

My shadow lurks behind meOn a crooked plain I tread

Morbid memory,Obscenely ordinary.Neurotic Nostalgia.Agitated aggression.Mindless mundaneness.I am the ruthless executionerEvery