Monday, 12 October 2015


Slowly, like a doom machine, it falls on me
Filled to the brim with a goo unknown to me
Shaped like the ideal human mould
The goo fills me at first as a liquid would
Then slowly, as the liquid dries out I can feel the force
Pressing on me from everywhere, to form an ideal work horse
Pushing out the me from me, like a task
Replacing me with nothing but an empty mask.

-Sachin Nath

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