By Harsh Patil
I was knocked out cold,
Sprawling under the setting sun,
Soon lights kindled up and got me enrolled,
To a show vivified for all but descried by none.
It was an apery full of novelty,
Like a plagiarist' brainchild,
That made me question my sanity,
It was hard not to be beguiled.
They bared clandestine emotions,
And defied my notions.
They had no eyes to stare,
Yet their stare made me bare.
I got their message,
A message intertwined with presages,
Since then I pay a pedage,
As now I am one of them savages.
By Harsh Patil
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