Image of a Broken Mask
The dismembered pages of my life
Scattered here and there
Between two fires at both
the ends
My two palms filled with some
justifications
Turned to a handful of ashes.
The mask breaks into thousands
of pieces
Despite all attempts to
consolidate them
With all crumbling senses of security.
Standing on a piece of earth
That dissolves every moment
Into an indefinite nothingness.
I consolidate them under the
veil of all eyes
Painting the virgin promises of
hypocrisy,
Breaks into pieces along with
it.
Who has created such a ‘me’
Standing alone along
With all untrusted sympathetic
intimacy.
The buried down lustful bones of
my mortal frame looks at itself
With two doubtful eyes
Whether the grass would grow on
it
Under the garments of a priest
Burdened with the black secrets of the soul.
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