Sunday, September 30, 2018

Magician of Pain

A day which is as heavy as the weariness of my legs.
In my period soaked tiredness, I walk through narrow lanes of goods, spices, crowds and nostalgia-filming and then bickering.

In olden days, I would have been a magician of pain. With such profuse talent that even pain from beyond seven seas land precisely at my doorstep. With much promptness I move things around and find enough time to get hurt.

My Gods remain deaf.
And I drown before them. Once more, for the umpteenth time

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