They cry wolf and scream bloody murder
Though all along with an upper hand
Whether in a uni-, bi-, or multi-polar world.
The camel’s nose continues to have its
Way and sway, with the myopic at the helm
Where justice is an auctionable commodity.
My skin is protected and smooth
Yet it brings no smile onto my face.
My cultivated and incisive mind
Harks back to the turbid past
To ideate and visualise the wounds.
I fight against the ghosts that caused them
With all my might and unquestionable right.
They are amply available
But I run down and keep away from them.
Yet I vent my spleen
That they had been kept away from me.
I say it has been thrust on me.
Yet I won’t give it up
But jealously guard and enjoy it.
Justice to me is not enough
Unless dispensed with wild injustice
To my perceived opponents.
Half-minds and half-hearts
With full brutish brawn
And one eye wilfully shut
Revel in a limbo of half-truths.
Don’t grieve or grumble that you’re feeble and helpless,
That you’re more sinned against than sinning,
That you’re abused and forced into an agonising existence.
Every suffering has an assigned reason;
So, dear soul!
Bear it silently, stoically, with no rancour.
The alchemic power of that silent suffering
Will lead you to a vindicated and happy life.
