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Writer's pictureSuyog Acharya

The Supreme Virtue


Akin, to the raging flame, 

Adam's ale, so profane.

Singes, thy revered virtues, 

Besmirching sins, it imbues.


Partisan, of the licit man, 

Vengeance, it understands. 

Jinxed I was, to bring chaos

By devil or god, of the cosmos


I concur to the heads I slayed,

Innocent or guilty, it was a mere play.

Thy screaming agony, brings me smiles,

Be it ripe, maiden or a child.


Zillions fell, by these adroit hands,

Stroked thy, every sultry strand.

Blare of the goat, prospers ecstacy of mine,

Following the silence, with no ray of shine.


Flying in my sky, I crashed,

But never, did it ever gashed.

The supreme virtue ensnared me,

Never then, was I set free.


Befitting of the wounds I inflicted,

Desires my life be evicted.

Indeed, the desire shalt be effectuated,

Every head I slayed was accentuated.


Fiasco of the cosmos, it is,

Man, beast, wild and trees.

All foiled to shield my entirety,

Feeble I, was embodied of pity.


Indigent I, used and abused,

Slave I was deemed, a recluse.

Bygone are my love, my genesis,

Loathe is, my only nemesis.


How would I fear death?

When I, never had any faith.

For all I knew, it was a mercy,

To demolish, sufferings and jolly.


To suffice life, to pleasure pain,

Inflicted mercy, endurance is vain.

The mercy was deemed ruthless,

Those sharp cuts were fruitless.


The pain inflicted upon the goats,

They had sunk deep, but my pain floats.

Supreme virtue is nothing but a sin,

None ever asked how I had been.


Chastising its own blunder,

Which birthed this plunder.

I am nothing but a malice,

This supreme virtue is called justice.


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