The ignoble’s victory has the oddest sound: A poem 

This is an eternity 

folded like a letter in my pocket 

Even if I didn’t read it again, 

I had memorised it 

I think of the star greater than all 

that birthed the universe 

like it was its creation’s soul 

And I thought of the treason, the crime 

that orphaned creator from His toil 

And I forage helplessly in a desert 

because the one who provided the manna 

is now hopelessly looking for it 

But sadness is not stripped off energy 

that nurtures loyalty 

and blooms love 

for all that was lost 

I was a child everyday 

because innocence cannot be devastated 

And I thought I never lost (in my innocence) 

Even as I asked the ignoble: 

What is your victory? 

Is it evil and treachery? 

Does it make a terrible din?