Poetry

Looked naïve, but he was 
elevating himself on the heap of lights 
unlearning the human commitment. 
Hunger was his weapon 
to level the uprising of underprivileged. 
 
This monarch of darkness 
picks up the best, 
insists on low profiles. 
We were searching fossils 
under the rocks 
to decipher the shadows of history. 
 
Between the glory of hardened footprints, 
we found the labels. 
Contents unknown but enough to browse. 
 
They were weightless 
and soaring high. 
But I was not able to survive 
in jungle of praises. 
You know, the world 
has short memory.