The Closet Despot
It is in the all surveying gaze of the sun that I concede to the veil of sanctity
harbouring a humane presence in me.
It is in the light of day that a lurking sinister figure hides and takes refuge in the guise of my shadow.
It is during the eve that a poet knocks on my being and exhales the vital essence of his expression into these empty words, bringing them to life.
But it is in the lonely night's chill that I am engulfed by the vast expanse of this shadow.
And as an ominous breeze sways my curtain gently aside ,
the faint incandesent glow from the outside breathes life into an obscure picture now in full fledged motion.
A trip into the heart of the soviet land,
A remorseless Stalin gleaming at an imaginary crowd atop the podium at Red Square .
A despot is born in a world plunged in darkness.
The shadow awaits the day the sun will never rise again.
Copyright © Rajarshi Keshari | Year Posted 2018
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