About Sigmas and "everyone else"

A supercilious bitch learns,

His own worth, his own true nature,

His true place,

And now knows his one true master.

 

He shall wear 'this' collar forever,

A reminder of his reprehensible sin,

Of standing up to “The Tamer”.  

Lies destroyed, all he ever built.

 

Never misconstrue the master’s humility,

For weakness,

It emanates from the true lordship,

That inside him resides.

 

How dare you,

Think of him as one of your own,

Ignorance- He can overlook,

Arrogance- You should have better known.

 

He easily forgives,

But you bitch shall be chastised for life.

The presumed aftertaste of his dick in your mouth,

Till your last breath, shall stay in your mind.

Keepers

People with memories,

Primarily sharp, but also deep-

Repositories of histories;

Forever close, we must keep.

 

He happened to be,

At an old spot,

Where they used to sip tea;

A monument, long lost.

 

He feels some things,

As if it were all happening live,

Oblivious of other beings;

Although, he wasn’t high.

 

He notices though,

A plugged speaker,

In place of the usual radio;

Takes the phone from the shopkeeper.

 

Types something into the phone,

The song ends abruptly;

He stands at a corner alone;

As now hums Ghulam Ali-

“मुद्दतें गुज़रीं पर अब तक वो ठिकाना याद है”

 

Whoa! What words!

What life! You beauty!

What times! Those hearts! 

What setup! That tea!