There is the politics occupied chair
Where I hurl the shoe of my soul
They want to tear the clothe of my spirit
That is in old rags like body left by the soul
I know the risk of tattered existence
But falling all around the hell
This is power's intoxicating smell
I live the illusion of temporal fraud
Friend I sail my faith in unknown sea
I have left one shore in vast waters
Up and down, down and up
My weak foundations facing the waves
All streams teach me like naive
Like full of emptiness in utter void
I taste all without any test
What may come and what may go
Where I dare to defeat the foe.
Anil Kumar Sharma
30/06/2017