5/03/2008

Murdering Altantuyaa Shaariibuu Again

As I journey through the darkness of cold oblivion
Borne on the back of Shava to meet his master
Assigned to Samsara by cruel nefarious forces
Which ended my karmic forces violently, abruptly

In my odyssey, wandering by the woeful Acheron
Was there a time when I had felt soothing voices
To comfort me amidst my lonely pains and fears
Yes I do, only from the One who is fragrant Pure

But the loudest noises are they calling for ‘justice’
Though, I smile cynically, ‘twas not meant for me
Their shrill proclamations & belated outrage (sigh)
Startled even great Gujir Tngri and the 77 siqar

Grandstanding acrobatics, their excuse to dispense
With all norms, purportedly all for me (wry smile)
I must confess I view with scepticism and distaste
As I would professional chest-pounding mourners

Gnashing Colgate mint-flavoured peroxide-d teeth
Wretchedly wringing manicured Ulan oiled hands
Shedding date-expired plastic bags of lo-salt tears
Proclaiming to be 11th hour paragons of ‘justice’

Even Ataya Tngri rolled his ancient eyes upwards
While Emegelji Eji cackled with caustic laughter
The ancient pair could see abacus shaped hearts
Clicking furiously and shaming Casio calculators

By sheer speed of their computation of advantage
What to extract, exploit, extricate from my name
Squeezing the very last speck of desiccated blood
From my hyper cold shattered fragments of bones

Eager hands raided the ossuary for me to be laid
As stepping stones for the progress of a demigod
On Ardha-Matanga, 4 tasks & seven white trunks
Saluting Brahma, walking to Amarawati by a lake

As the pseudo-pious pirouetting pachyderm crushes
What little good left of my name, what trust exists
In my family’s hope for requital of my cruel murder
I realize those raucous battle cries were not for me

Summoned by conjured justice to now serve Fenrir
To break asunder Gleipnir but only with my death
Re-evoked, for my soul to be murdered a 2nd time

To satiate the burning thirst of Angrboda’s 1st child


Related:
Remembering Altantuyaa Shaariibuu

1 comment:

  1. One can feel the anguish of a soul being sordidly buggered by those who would stoop to any level for their magnanimous agenda.Beautiful pathos in this poem.

    ReplyDelete

Contributors