This aeon is treacherous;

An age of strife, evil and wickedness

We see only masked faces

Turning our life into masquerades;

Feigned smiles, convincing flatteries,

Fetish beliefs, false promises;

All carrying a shackle attached to their ankles.

High- octane thoughts, high pitched laughter,

œLike the crackling of thorns, under a pot,

High-speed affability, pretending hypocrites;

Hyperbolic utterances, simulated snobbishness.

When man loves another man

God is taking birth in their minds.

When he starts hating another,

HE dies in the mind, and HE is buried!

On the sacrificial stone at the alter

Of unseen fate, the Time has placed man

As a sacrifice; his limbs tied up and

The guillotine may come down, any moment..

Truth has been chasing the dumb shadows

Of falsity, and myth always, in vain.

Time is a torrent and in the deluge, the desires

Plunge and surmount, rambling and drifting

In a quandary, as in a Jacuzzi.

We may believe that the quaint horizon is at hand

Yet, when we near it, it becomes distant.

That is the horizon of our desires!

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at VOGUE.