From The Mirror

Of the few forlorn moments

That I spend with myself each day

Painting smiles upon a face

Covered with wrinkles of dismay

Who is this? I often ask

Staring at me from within the mirror

Swearing at me heaven and hell

Getting each moment more stranger

He relishes the taste of my blood

And loves to pull my hair

Takes delight in pinning me down

And doesn’t seem to care

Often, I shriek back in horror

And plead with him to let go

Only to find him pulling me nearer

And gifting, yet another blow

Its after that I fade, he sinks

And sits upon my back and cry

Again I have put you to test, he says

And again shall I return to try

All these years, I meekly obeyed

Resigned and submitted getting flayed

But this one time I asked him why

Moments before he took to ply

He guffawed aloud before answering me

Fool, I am your passion, Can’t you see

I seek you through the doors of greed

In your vanity and pride I sow my seed

Your lust is the weapon that I use

To send your conscience on a rush

While you devour mortal wealth and muse

I strangle its voice to a hush

He finished his answer and leaned back

Gifting a lipless grin

And I thought I heard death whisper

Shining beneath the skin

Paltry and feeble, I closed my eyes

Lost my ground & yearned for skies

No more now would the pain subside

For my deeds, I must pay the price.

: Himanshu (1999)