A Crypto Question
I want to know how you gulp down
An entire bottle of tranquil 'love'
In this sterile, abhorrent time!
You play shoddy game with words!
In an instant haste -
You produce opaque poetry
Using paltry nuances and metaphors.
Ah, love is not safe in your hand!
It's just a commotion -
An erotic surge
Of your surrogate twisted mind.
You brew mundane words
Into rhyme and rhythm -
You craft love as a mere carnal thing
In masterly charm.
An ill-fated maestro that you are,
Your mesogenic soul beseeches a reprieve
From medieval diaspora of pathogenic love.
Your forlorn manic mind
And your irate brain
Fail to determine the very essence of love!
I want to ask you this brute question -
When your mingled mind
Minced and scrabble a rogue copulation
On a helpless paper -
And your obscene obsessions
Jeer and moan sadistic verses
Within the inner realm of your malicious soul -
Don't these clever acts and episodes
For the heinous crime you are committing
All these I want to know.
Ranju, a fading poet, found an inner voice that tells him to delay his retreat.