Man for Majesty

I have decided finally to call off the trip to Shimla,

and then in after thought I revisit the canteen of cinema,

where they crack open popcorns and sully the chairs,

causing much to a fantasy of teenybopper ,

Halt! I must prepare myself for loo,

there is wind underneath the paws of women,

who hush silence to speak about the hero,

of their choice like a titan high up on the roof lying hitherto,

putting his feet on the scaffold drying air out of his breath,

He would be the party man whom the women have picked from nowhere,

to the earthy height of this cinema,

Coward the cowmen who sully the name of the film,

just to show up what yet they haven’t seen the dance of the death,

on film and its dream hood.

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