In the battling sea of fears and desires
I stood, each foot on different boats.
Orientation lost, I drooped, impotent,
and fell on the floor of indecision.
Krishna, driver of thoughts, you steered
me through the inner storm
while vengeance like a silent twister
spiralled in the red of the enemy’s eyes.
Investing in murder, indifferent
to the dividend of sins, was
the sole condition of my bonded life
you said, a dark cloud eating yor face.
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