"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Sunday, October 12, 2014

EXECUTIONER

It’s gone five years since the onset of tears.
My heart bleeds pain and I can’t treat the stain
Of lies and jeers, paranoia and fears,
Almost at times insane, beset by strain.
Accused, betrayed, pierced deep by splintered facts,
Cross examined by dilettantes and rakes,
Summoned to courts to see a sharpened ax,
While proxies hissed and spat like lethal snakes.
The faultfinders shaped sins of omission
And failed to prove even that shabby case.
But they bullied to coerce contrition,
Offered up their cover-up to save face.
At night I hear the chanting of the crowd
They will taunt me until I wear my shroud.


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