A Replica

You go down in the dry pool foraging for the political errors, irisprints, a certain desire of revolt, any skeleton to identify the victim. An awful claim, the accuser was becoming accused. For namesake somebody was dying unceremoniously for holding tuberculosis. Dots did not help. Washed and dried curses went into the background. There was a cease-fire for sometime but the guns will start blazing any day on fake pretexts. The ending of pain or pain of ending begins. The past was chasing, future uncertain, present is ugly. Peahen likes the tail not the crown. Peacock is on tree and on fire. Deflection of sun marks the beginning of eclipse. A word falls from a crossword puzzle, makes a history. Death was in crucible, dualism will survive. The long beard of a terrorist becomes brown with age. The train is screeching to halt. There was a landslide. SATISH VERMA