Don't get blindsided

King's tone traverses all,

Queen's colors are on flag.

The cogs - shaking, shaping, rotating, oscillating, carrying the burden of whole kingdom -

Are simply cogs without eyes and ears.

When the cogs start sensing

Their aura spreads until it encompasses the royal blue.

He is nobody,

No signs on forehead,

No crown or gowns on head

No colors on clothes.

One day,

He is mending the chores,

Minding his own clock,

Walking the street -

An elephant

garlanded him.

Now,

He weighs life and death for everybody.

Big brother with big stick,

Mending the lines of flock -

Stern yet caring and loved.

Big Don with big gun,

emptying pockets of shun,

cruel, uncaring and detested.

The abrupt shift,

the slice of hand,

the swap of mask,

the turn of hat,

awed everybody.

One always stumbles,

And falls to ground.

It matters to onlooker -

how gracefully they getup -

and fall in line of the great race.

When you are waiting,
And nothing happening.

Not even a fickle of wind,
Not even a leaf is falling,
Not even a cricket is chirping.

The sky blue, orange and radiant
And just stuck like a painting.

The bird in the nest,
silently staring at you.

The music from far away,
playing without a change in rhythm.

The whole nothingness is fulfilling.