The Buried Epistle

Someday in 2035

Dear Shera,

I breathe my last at the centre of Gir

Embossing on my arms the maiden letter

You will never get to read

As I go up in flames.

Your kingship stood for long the test of time

Set for all a paradigm but alas!

Outdone by the vicious human race

And they will, for centuries

Remain cursed for all the transgressions.

On this penultimate day to the apocalypse

I, the last of all floras

Stand witness to the wipeout of the species

That has, since time immemorial, nurtured this planet

Dispensing the vitals for everyone's existence.

For a fresh start, the greater good

[sobs] May the world soon come to peace. Amen! 

Drowning in the shallows

The zing seems to fade away

And there are zillion reasons to question,

Bloated all over like yaws of the tropical

And I no longer protest or shy,

Succumbed to the twinge every moment

I mock myself, drowning in the shallows.

The klaxon in the distance is intense now

And concussion of the night before decimates,

Contentious all over are contemplations in my mind

And I no longer syncretize or pry,

Succumbed to the lurch every step

I mock myself, drowning in the shallows.

The intellect at times abandons

And the inherent sack continues to rust,

Scattered all over are chunks of the grey matter

And I no longer whet or try,

Succumbed to the foil every attempt

I mock myself, drowning in the shallows.