Ancient customs girded the Harbinger of Death
In loin cloth, hairy barrel chest and a husky voice.
Taboo is deaf to the hip-swinging trump of death,
Scowling and seething at all infringing trespassers.
...
I.
The dressage of all these mares and stallions
Never fails to hold the world in rapt attention
...
A pantheon of moulded images
Figurines of gold with clay feet
Pottered in a frenzy of adulation
Hailed in theatres of absurdities.
...
Accolades of Acolytes dance across banners to gongs,
drums and cheers.
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An ensemble overtly assembled with armoured tanks
Blared to a quaking audience with dull marshal notes
Cantatas of steel-voiced, stern-faced friendly soloists.
...
Unseen hands swat metal birds from our skies
Plunging them to earth as disemboweled flies
Dark earth crimsons from ever-tender wounds
Of serrated hearts and scars of mortal wounds
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A graveyard of stoic soldiers:
Charred carcasses of Baobabs
Scarred bodies of wrinkled Palms
Vanquished with flaming swords;
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Ninjas armed with flying swords
noble offerings on ignoble wings
temples of blood on towers of strength
nightmare at dawn.
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N ewborn pushed out by long dialogues
in anaemic rush to the road to freedom
umbilical tethered to a sovereign staff.
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This covey of benighted knights
Enamoured of endless hurrahs
Jousted for fame on gold stallions
Sovereign chest gouged in unison.
...