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To Vincent


Durlabh Singh

You did not love the sceptred sunshine

You loved the summer's undiluted sun

Which in the end took its bitter revenge

In depriving you of your saline serenity

Into the depths of crazed pivoted symphony.

Rest assured in your diverted quickened steps

That nobody loved the soul within your crest

The crazed straw hat topping your yellow hair

Your red beard drenched in the crowds, a fear

It was enough to drive the crazy sickened mob

For a revenge on your enflamed tortured throb.

Children will mock you

Citizen will lock you

Women will scorn you

People will disown you.

Dawning clouds and rustling winds

Broken strokes of the lemon rinds

Vermillioned lamps amid ochred yellows

Cobalt blues of the sulphured mellows

Embittered flowers in the wasted vase

Vibratory landscapes in twisted grass

Pavement cafes under the starry skies

Purpled deeds in hallucinatory nights.

With color and the light

And amid a creative start

An explosion within your soul

And a bullet in your heart.

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