Between right and wrong,
whole conflict revolved
around the quality of truth.
Blood soaked tatters were giving away
his identity, of what he was not.
There was duality of purpose
one for his innert presence-
and one for the world.
He was trying to become prisoner
of factual entity.
to check the erosion of self
imploring the intution.
His soul stood the rent
prayed to cross the inferno,
there was murder in air,
a lull before the storm.
So the immanence of evil
lashes on the shores of peace.
Envy and what life deserved
will decide a parting kiss of death.
SATISH VERMA
