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Candle-Dousers Are On The Run!

by Shivangi Mishra
(Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India)

While candle-dousers were on the run,
Terracotta toys shouldered half burnt wax candles.
Delicateness would light up dampness,
Benign were the Bolsheviks, they chased equality,
Overthrew pictures and pastels, secured not equality,
But its fiendish allies,
Terracotta toy sculptures floated southwards,
On a different day, afloat a white Indus, in a bygone timeline,
Buoyant and singing, Princess Antastasia’s placid age,
Innocently failed in colour genealogy and time politics,
Oh I wish time balls collided,
All homelands remained pure as every homecoming,
Alas, we weep, love begot an aftermath, a homeland but nay homecoming.
Candle-dousers are still on the run,
There is no war in Crimea but Nightingales in the world,
If sparse ink to sign responsibilities, Mevlevi whirls attend red crosses.
If Princess waves a flag, no identity but a jubilant palm,
Aboard nameless, unidentifiable yacht on uncoloured seas,
Candle-markers have departed, happy.


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