the vile truth

Truth,

are you there

in the next bend of the road?

or beyond my reach?

or in the behinds of the door?

I walk in with held breath

to encounter you,

to bare you to shame,

and to imbibe slowly

thy oozing venom-

the wine of ages,

intoxicating my soul.

No! You live in the dingy damp cellars,

cloaking into disguise.

A sweet grape

held within thy womb,

nurtured with poison and darkness

dubious ever of sinful grace

behold never sparkling rays

but Night’s shadows

of blackened veils and

Kohl-lined eyes

smeared with Satan’s blood

kissed into life by asp’s fangs.

It grows and grows

into uncanny shape

eating minds raw and ripe

alike, until nothing to quench

but itself, the monster

gnaws it all,

devouring the dark by dark

the venom by venom,

until the remains

are mere bones, dried,

tear-blood soaked hair,

nails streaked red,

and a strange broken

frame of a skeleton.

The raw bones speak

truth, the truth

through every pore

when the war is done,

when the air is stiff of

dried stinking stained blood,

when no soul cares to hear

the reeking truth

thundering amidst bones

as it rises, puffs in the misty air

and vanishes omnipresent,

yet intangible!

Photo Courtesy: Nandha Kishore