Faute De Mieux Poem by Syed Ahmed Shah

Faute De Mieux



The saber swishes through
A layer of air,
Sick with chronic suspicion,
And hot-knifes through my neck
Like a foregone conclusion.
The head, severed from sin,
Drops with a thud
At my feet,
Muttering a feeble excuse…

My life was not
Faute de mieux;
I had earned it by being undecipherable…

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Syed Ahmed Shah

Syed Ahmed Shah

Guwahati, Assam, India
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