He came along, with his ‘elite’ blood
And lone ‘virtue’, of his ashen skin
Which deify, many a dud
“Here comes, our lord, with his suave sin”
With a classy suit, and a sassy style
He seemed, no less than, divinity
Sly imbecile, did his job, with guile
Whilst his spit, slurped, our servility!
“How dare, he’d be, a lesser intellect
Don’t you see, his hide, so sparkling white
Whilst we hail, from that, abject sect
Which fears, to death, its racial might!”
Not just etched, in hearts, and minds
But deep-rooted, in our DNA
How black pathos, in a white ethos, finds
Every substance, to be, evolution’s castaway!
Yes! History does, repeat itself!
As we, extol, our ethnic rot
In a white shadow, ekes out, that elf
An existence, his self-pity bought!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra