Game of Flame

An abode of stay
To call the world mine.
Perfection and mirror,
Imperfection and desire,
Wishes and truth.
Every second has stood
The burning game of flame;
Lights and colorful reality
Is extra lavishness.
There is hunger out there
Out of my sight it tortures
The empty stomachs.
I count the hungry faces and
Still could not number them,
Their dreams are doubtful.
When reality is so painful
Where do they hide their
Mask of misery?
The stars of yesterday
Are not to be counted
When you can cage
The whole sky today.
A messiah sun has to dawn and guide.

Sushant Thapa serves as an assistant editor to Himalaya Diary, an online publishing platform. He lives in Biratnagar, Nepal. He holds an M.A. in English from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India. His fourth book entitled "Love's Cradle" was published by World Inkers Printing and Publishing New York, and Dakar, Senegal recently. Read other articles by Sushant.