Each in his cubicle of unyielding walls
With spreadsheets of hours of calculated loss
And interests of compounded hate.
My acrobatic words
Now misstep their leaps
And crash their bones along walls.
Springs and ladders now can’t be of help
When maps of lands beyond walls are lost.
Caving my head within files and screen
I’ve typed my bones with care.
So here’s my urn to the future unborn:
Build all your thunders or burn.
Note: According to an Indian legend Dadhichi, a great sage, realising that his bones were the only way by which the gods could defeat the demons willingly gave his life in a pit of mystical flames he summoned with the power of his austerities.Brahma is then said to have fashioned a large number of weapons from Dadhichi's bones, including the Vajra/thunder, which was fashioned from his spine. The gods are then said to have defeated the demons using the weapons thus created.