Reversions

However hard we weep, scream and yell

The ones who determined to slip the grasp will slip

Break away, fly and trick.

-Betrayal-

Have two distinct faces

The one that smashes the bones

And the other that simply scoffs at its fragility.

May be it’s the victim

Whose vision clouded and clowned

Because for some

The ways of the new men is uncomprehending

They simply don’t fit in the new men context

Of digital texts, life, morality and love!

They are the yellowing papers

Waiting waiting

With single lines, margins and book marks

Sniffing flesh, blood, poetry in skin

Thickly sorted like in a red pomegranate.

Only to be later torn

Or eaten by moth

Or thrown to flame

Or to be ashes along with a sewage disposal

Still

They are seldom toxic

Unlike a digital explosion!