Those stinging arrows were lethal
more severe those blows
from the self possessed coffins
nailed on beliefs of eras not known.
Both danced on my mortal remains
to remind me in my mornings
that change is not a word they love
Present, a gift of the Past.....
wrapped on blocks of ruins
Repugnance, Curses, blows
Justice a blind scale..
hangs above like a sword....