I.
Thunder and lightening.
Beyond the congested road
They dance.
They dance like the mist,
They dance like the fog and filthy air,
They dance like flowers on the wind.
They keep dancing with skulls and bones,
They dance nude in silver moonlight.
Men await their verdict.
It keeps raining.
Acid comes out of the minds.
Graymalkin or Paddock won’t call them,
This time they will keep on dancing
Making days and nights as the earth moves.
Men await their verdict.
II.
Fair is foul and foul is fair.
They make music out of their sisters’ skulls.
They make chestnuts out of raped flesh.
Unborn girls accompany them,
So do the ghosts of burnt women.
Now they are ready to haunt the cities, the tunnels, the bars, and the drains.
Now they are ready to haunt your computer screen.
Be ready to accept their verdict.
III.
I am scared to see them dancing
Like the mist, rain, and stars.
I realize how beautiful they are.
They fill the planchet hole in my brain.
I am naked in front of the mirror.
The mirror speaks of God.
The mirror speaks of Evil.
The mirror speaks of the end.
Thrice the brindled cat hath mew’d.
Thrice and once the hedge pig whin’d.
Harpier cries, ‘ ‘Tis time, ‘Tis time.’
Diptanjan Sarma Purkayastha
(Please note that I have used some lines from Macbeth in this poem. Apart from these lines there are some references to the witches in Macbeth in this poem.)
