Knives hasbeen tied
to their legs ;
the bravery of the king
is bought at the price
of the ichor of the legionaries.
Where the sky of Shu is red
as Garnet in the far west ,
on the other side of it ;
is the sentinel of the hell.
The Moon of Luna unveils ;
like a lassie full of coyness ,
like a colleen scared of rape
goes scarefully.
larghetto in pewter darkness
like gray Santolina flowers ,
of the late autumn field .
In the lustre of the autumn gray
serpentine Moon ;
farm of the cram-full abundance .
Greedy eyes fluttering
wings in despair ,
exciting battlefield blowing dust ;
blood thirsty heroic cock tilt ,
meat-cake must be today .
The war shouting two Wheelers ,
the flag will win,
people will be sacrificed .
The hands change from red to blue,
blue to red ;
the dead will dance if i am the ruler .
Hatred in the eyeballs lays eggs ;
in a row .
The invisible sharp axe of Parsuram
is stuck to the body .
Arrows, bows, axes, spears ,
bombs and guns go around the houses.
The house snake ;
that snake also lives
in the garden of Eden ,
is laying dormant.
The heroic cock died
in the battle ,
mild pain in the mind ?
the haunted cock is mixed
with the palate of tongue ;
in our primitive violence and hatred .
The 'Two strings' of the village ,
there is one old baladist ,----------
if the whole village comes running ,
like squaddies thinking of enemy ,-------
we also run in opportunities .







© Dhruva