As I Come Back 100 Years Later

Perhaps I could foresee it long back,

Perhaps the world had foreseen it even before that.

100 years later, the torn litters with computations of the dichotomy,

That something from the all or all from something,

I find myself emancipated, not perturbed with, anymore, anyhow...

Firmly, freedom is still a vague, and starvation is blessed with reincarnation every now & then.

Optimism's scrawl is deciphered to be the remains of the skeleton crawling, no more creepy.

Faiths are too sacred to be the dossals awaited to be butchered, no-more brutal.

I don't find anymore the relevance that I prayed 100 years back,

That to bless me with 100 more years of life,

That to be submerged in my beloved's eyes,

I laugh at this irrelevance,

Standing amidst the debris of civilization's end.

Only unaltered, the huge black stone, on the river bank,although worn away, A massive of it, where I used to sequence my dreams,

Found with the carcass of the last vulture on earth,

Devoured by New Predator,

To rule with new realms...