Time: Twilight: Threshold

Too fatigued,
Time at the twilit threshold
crestfallen and numb,
looks like an old woman's sagging breast.
And at this moment
terror-stricken face of our poor Prahlad
is like a blank sheet of white paper.

Power-drunk Kashipu
blindly strikes the mute columns
that stand patiently bearing
the whole burden of the roof.

Look! Columns are cracking and breaking
but Narasimha Avatar hasn't come out as yet.
Only a still and hazy dusk stands
like a sterile woman
and lying flat is that naked threshold
where, like a diseased hen in its hatching roost,
time squats, tired
waiting to be rescued

But only a motionless murky evening
and the sleeping sterile threshold
that goes neither in nor out.