At Dawn they will bring the news
Democratic mist which mists everything
Is scared by the sacred sunlit morning
In which an old abandoned house bathes
With sunlight beaming through history's hole
It lies in anxious anticipation
With its steel windows closed and wooden doors shut
It waits in the juvenile morning
Like a wife for her husband at borders
Like a husband- for a wife- departed for a better man
And the dear departed, anxiously awaited,
Does return, (unlike the husbands or wives)
In a shadow tinted ultrasonic cluster
Barging through the ventral history hole
To sleep upside down and paint floor crap hued
And at dawn they have brought the news
For night spills more secrets than days
Secrets of wives and their other husbands,
Secrets of husbands and their other wives
Secrets of politicians' foolproof lies
Secrets of oppositions' conspiracies
Batmen and batwomen in their old home
While robins chirp outside; alongside jays
And the old gold house grooms its tenants
Thinking- at dawn they will bring the news- again.
~Ajay