Effigy of the fallen

I fell.
Knees bled.
Hands bruised.
Face dusty.

Tears create pathways on my dusty face.
King Solomon pities my fall from grace.
The Ramming Stone pretends to be ignorant.
The one in Shambles blurts curious questions.

Moses claims I’ve stopped being real.
The Shabby one urges me to be Nike.
The Torrential one checks on my mental state.
The Changeling wonders what’s love; what’s hate?

I fell. I feel.
I bled. I bleed.
I cried. I cry.
I burn.

Someone tonight’s burning;
the effigy of the fallen.

Varun Rajagopalan.