Monday, October 10, 2016

Is the fighter dead?

There, by the red woods,
under a Silicon canopy
that exudes, attracts power,
I saw its steely desire
to climb up...
Creeping along the
bare, brick canvas:
the world as we built it.

Blinded by the lustful flashes
of the one with might,
reaching for the source
of his power,
the upper balconies
of the city
where Lodi reigned,
Modi reigns.

And, in the dark
I see,
lies justified by hope,
I behold a mission,
a questioning vision,
I find the return gift...
A fight still remains in me, but is the fighter dead?