a poem by Feroze Varun Gandhi

Sometimes God is all he can’t refuse
Sometimes your heart is a mouth
Some answers haven’t found their questions
Bow to the capture
The ransom that you serve

Trying to remember what
I really should forget
God is as close to you
As you are to yourself
The end engendering itself

The sky whispers
The remains of a prophecy:
That all roads are mirrors
And all mirrors are questions
Perhaps your race has just been run
And somewhere its time for a renewal