Fancy you are
the conqueror
Clip the wings
of karma,
Stuff half of
them in a strolling
barrel to let
it
across the waters
or
gushing waves of
sea;
some broken powdered
parts
in
embers to be engulfed by
devastating fire. Sit and serenade
with a confidence
that your
karma is over, drink
badam
or almond
watching the T.V.
serial
of your choice. Fall asleep
to be woken
up by a
multi headed
like Cerberus
chasing you
beyond
your breath and you
run and run
too far and fall
into the pit
of karma ; Karma
wears
the shirt with
the
letters inscribed on it
“ I am the conqueror”.
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