Encountering Regrets HIV+

I know dis person he's goin 2 die soon, he too knows it. Dat thing is in his blood. It wont let him go. It slaps his cells for food. It soaks his night in sweat. His days r breaking in pain. He's fearing death. No hand or drug can treat his limbs for love or gain. The VIRUS is killing away his capacity 2 fight.

love was the strange 1st cause dat bred grief in its seed. He was unaware of the gain which had its own laws, 2 establish its place & breed. His hands struggling hard 2 join in attitude of prayer. He loves God but he wont speak of hope or cure coz he knows that it wont do him any good. He has read life. He has foreseen death. The devil devouring him in his magmatic spleen.

He is hopeless, he is helpless, he is in fear- The fear of

how will he go on?

how will he bear this taste?

he is toiling for his last breaths..

he is toiling for his last beats..

His throat cased in a white spawn. It is a waste handshake, he's requesting his loved 1s to b by his steel ward bed & hold him where he lies, coz he says,

"LOVE ME WHEN I AM DEAD

& DO NOT LET ME DIE.."

HOUSE OF GOD

I had been 2 Western Maharashtra long years back. I reached der by Dawn- the ball of sun suspended above a railway track, bt I was in darkness, I had a divided perspective 2wards understanding religion seein the temples in all way dilapidated conditions.
I stepped inside an age old temple. The titanic temple of deities spread around @ each wall.
The Seated KHANDOBA on Ram(goat); The Stood VITTHAL on brick Besides RAKHUMAI in her stoned saree & our very own undetachable MAHABALI HANUMAN (MARUTI) engraved out of a stone.
The roof had come down on the deities heads. Nobody seemed 2 mind, least of all the God himself. May b he liked the temple this better way.
In a corner a mongrel bitch had found a place for herself & her pupies. Past a doorway was cluttered wid broken tiles. The pariah (social outcasted) Puppies lookin @ u & their mother guarding them. A black puppy had gone a little far & I cud hear a tile click under its foot.
A terror strike my heart. I saw a dung beetle makin its way 2 the safety of the broken collection box. The crushing weight of the roof beam was felt by me! I felt sad not for the God's Bt for those ZENDU (marigold) flowers which I always hated as i considered them the flowers for the corpses.
IT WAS NO MORE A PLACE OF WORSHIP - THIS PLACE IS NOTHING LESS THEN "THE HOUSE OF GOD"