The Camouflage - Poem by Dhruv Dikshit
A person standing beside me,
Is it a friend or a mask?
The liquid moves as we see,
Is it water or acid in the flask?
The days come with extended hours,
Have come a long way, still a long way to go.
Everyday the tar showers,
Darkens the faces preparing to glow.
Feels like a carcass left to rot,
And odour covered with a beautiful scent.
Devil has what angel does not,
Camouflaged ways, on me they are bent.
A thief posing in the king’s dress,
Stealing shillings as if a legal buy.
A boy to a girl, trying to impress,
Making phony compliments about her eye.
Layer by layer, pealing and pealing,
To find a matter already rust.
Round and round through the hallucinating healing,
Actual world camouflaged in the crust.
A joker made to perform on stage,
Without a single personal trait.
Shadows encircling to form a cage,
Of those showing the false gate.
Life in a book kept open and wide,
Pages ripped by distinct silhouettes.
Splashed the face with the agonising tide,
A pain camouflaged in shouts.
Beginnings-biddings, always the same,
Moving in circles, pretending to be straight.
Evil camouflaged in a human’s name,
Playing the heart like an unbreakable freight.
Mind shakes and heart shouts,
At apparition of continuous illusions.
Body stands pale and eyes pour out,
At the realistaion of continuous treasons.
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