Yielding

Time sets upon the arcane taboos you wear the unknown fear like cowries around your neck, a bulletproof jacket did not work, the fish in the brain was the religion. Whom do you trust now in the caveful of seekers ? They were demanding every drop of your blood from a waning relic. Climbing Mt Everest was a raw deal, dismantling the heights like plasma, as naked as the ice on unmarked grave. Hyper-sided, the priest was confused in repetition of a prayer, and the floor trembled in uplifting the god. SATISH VERMA