By Prateek Joshi
Letters foreseen have had me in a doubt
near a flutter of memory
and then a rewind into a blur
making me melt at the mouth of seduction
Long time since I hauled a reason to its end,
often if burning brittle by scar holding me a prisoner
of the mean defiance
into a pit piled to a tower
tripping off totaled fiasco
as if by its apology it would draw me into a sob
likening life at its heels a miasma
and fetching a fury to yield to its enigma
A well fed beef capturing death in its silence
hanging to its stillness as it cries havoc
I have tripled my treasures witnessing death up close
zipping away any why's as to how it can be brought to a halt
A crowded myth certainly cowered by insistence,
it averts dissonance out of quiet
reaching out to the versimilitude of any pain that must have hung,
somehow it eaves into the lunge
as the peeved prepares to burn bum,
having built a fool proof case of dying at his own hands,
convinced no faith would settle the raiding escapade
and he would once for all find bliss at the far edge once the curtain drops
A little lag in the minted lies
and the prayers vanish into the Devil's belly
wishing away any purity to a cage
where the left overs can be seen boiling to the rage
Beautifully written poem.