Death Cries In Manipur!

My presence was suspicious,
It smelt rotten spirits everywhere, and
Questions on morality repeated itself like a rhyme.

Something strapped my soul, it has got
Spikes that swerves between faith and betrayal
Yes, they are all legends in the streets of Manipur,
With play-cards, with fancy slogans,
And the Death stood there alone!

Little suspicious, in the games we play
Of killing, of brutality and brotherhood;
Ask me, are they real, these corpses,
These bruises, these slogans, these gallows?

I leaned on him and explained holding my guts:
No, these are the remnants, only the leftover
Of a great feast, fed upon and
Of carnal existence with revenge and extermination and
Of cleansing for a great civilization!

He cried.