Cursing
the infidelity
of my self,
that makes me
break old walls,
build them anew...
I see
the meaning
cystal clear
before me...
Sometimes
like a sinner
with a holy book,
sometimes,
a saint with a gun...
I bid my farewells,
with the
ritualistic agony
that makes
the tragic art of leaving.
Anirban Kapil Baishya(31/3/2007)
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