Love: My Dissection (Radha-29) Poem by Subrat Pradhan

I know
Many a conquerors (fanatics) would come
With the sharpened arms
Of their religions.
They would dissect me
And my love oozing organs
To pieces
With the intention
To take you away from me
For all the time to come
As if to cut off
The leaves from the trees
The aromas from the flowers
The seeds from the fruits
They would not understand
Where they err
They would not understand
What are their short-comings?
Only they would allege me
That I have taught
All of you to immerse within others
And to loose their identities-
I would not be able to
Make them understand my point
They won't understand me either
I would be compromising
With the different kinds of tempests
Compounding within me
I would be waiting
For the destined time
Once again to find you out
Wandering all around the world.