As the price for
turning their disciples
we, willingly accepted
them as our masters of
dreams
magic of dreams.
We felt rather elated
like peacocks spreading
wings, dancing
at the sight of
dark clouds appearing
on the sky heralding
the approach of torrential
rains
after a lull.
Fire-spitting magicians
were they,
our masters.
They taught
us first
the history of man
squeezing man,
siphoning away his
wealth leaving his
brother in the lurch
about the
parasites in
the history of mankind
and the parasites roaming
free
with power and pelf
reducing us to a shambles.
Fire-raged in our veins,
blood boiling thru’
looked they like ferocious
tigers menacingly baring its
canine and roaring frequently
we disciples followed suit
the urgency of acute emergency
to wipe out the parasites
arising in our minds.
‘Teach us the magic of
exterminating the creatures
from the face of earth’ –
we roared and cried in
unison.
That very moment they played
a disappearing game
like a flash
leaving us haywire
magicians truly they are
where the hell are our
masters of dreams?
Magicians are magicians only
no magical solutions
left
to wipe out our
prolonged chain of hardships.
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