Dream

by Prof. Dr. Ram Krishna Singh

I watch the past crushed

and fake saints rising to reign

exalt cunningness

envision deceit to prosper

a ram rigs the folk

with iron teeth and speaking horns

from the Ganga's bank

immigrant hope and waiting

pushes west, north, east

and southward for net-breaking

new resurrection

beyond the brimming nowhere

I hear the dead dying

angels groaning in the trees

my unscarred body

feels the hand that's blade and guard

ends me like full stop

New waves of terror rise high

the book is opened

but where is the seeing eye?

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