Fantasies, Disperse!

By S. Viswanathan

In me are many,

of them, but few

who walk past me,

their shadows remain,

Fear, anger, and pain,

are but different shadows,

of different men

waxing and waning time and again,

one who was courage

avoids one who is afraid,

Another at peace is repelled

by those in pain. In hordes

they pass by me, and within me remain.

Isn’t that how a human is made?

If so, how can humanity be any different?

In a far off corner of an angel’s dream,

I saw a man who stood like a burning flame,

No shadows, no name.

Can he redeem what was lost,

and reveal what’s to gain?

But I never really saw him, for he

had no shadow,

I guess it was merely a projection, Or

An epiphany in disdain.

By S. Viswanathan