Tejasvi Saxena writes

“An Absurdity called Hope"

"The gullible eyes look towards the silent shores 

Incredulity of an uncharted course, unknown

I find a kneeled body bent in a muse 

Wearing a gaze with par beyond this cluster of stars

His deformed joints, fractured existence 

Narrate the woeful voyages of his lone battles

A monk was he, in bylanes of Vietnam 

When waves of time swirled through frothy

whirlpools in his unquiet land

And he floated with the nebulous course

He woke up a morning to howls of screams

To burning smell of flesh; reduced to charred piles of lifeless sheaths 

The sheaths that once closeted breaths of life

The monk's eyes sheen with fiery bosom of fires

Raging flames ablaze in reminiscence of bonfires

The burning pyres of fellow monks

With torched creeds of communism

Gobbled up in dark conflagrations

The melange of doctrines are buried with their torch bearers 

Under a buoyant and slippery ground of capitalistic ventures

Monk's indelible quiescence of hope;

Raptures me 

As he hopes!

Which itself is an immemorial self

And an eternal absurdity."

 Burn, Burn, Burn -- Silvia Pelissero