Skin:
Caste is such an evil,
In the past however I rode on it,
only to become a hypocrite.
Looking back, wasn't it so vile?

The stigma of the past,
crawling underneath like a little pest.
Can a saint be reborn,
to hear my confession?

How can a reformed man give a fight
when the demons of the past haunt?
I feel their fury
And,
I hear a voice telling me not to worry.

The evil needs to be subdued,
by peeling the skin off the corrupted.
I need to forget the past,
and walk the earth without any regret.

- The fire and the poet