Flogged by walloping race
Amidst a perpetual chase
Fearing being left behind someone
Or fearing someone left behind
The finishing line is a horizon
It recedes with every clatter
Emitted by a fluttered mind
So what if the hoof pains and bleeds
Behind the rush on smeared tracks
Limps the crushed hoof of shadow
The dash started for stacks of hay
Those are now the burden of beast
The pastures are left stranded behind
As I carry my gallop saddled firmly
In search of a staggered stable.
Delhi
18.42
2089
17.8.23
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