Another funeral averted.
Praise be to my Mentor, Kudos to my guru,
had it not been to my Guru’s timely,
benign intervention ,sequel to the almighty’s
boon to me, there would have been yet another
ghastly funeral, a Machiavellian plot,
those days when the beguiled, short-tempered
was no more, when his obsequies were being held,
when I was pushed to the noisy kitchen,
with my silence and ignorant of the
Surreptiously boiling, envenomed situation,
The truly guilty yet like a proud peacock,
Covering her sin was sauntering about,
Conniving ly convincing the gathered ones,
The poisoned arrow was turned against me,
My Mentor was strong by me
Praise be to Him who stands by me and my close-nit.
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