A Letter To Mr Anonymous

Bet I owe you no apology,

As I pen this down to you ;

When the time draws near

For the aptitude to the determined

Or perhaps the string of subjection

The seats have enormous guests than usual;

Nonchalant looks paves way

Even the rats fail to have their space

But get more gains from the drops

Dry chains, brown teeth, and dusty feet

Still , on the pronounced day

Amidst the resounding protocol

Many are subversive of the rules

Supposed Mr Anonymous

Cackled up in suits like undertaker

Viral of inks on the resting prints

Splashing with spurious knowledge 

Postures traced from various cultures

Would indeed not be found wanting

What are we embracing?

The supposed upholders now the defaulters

A slap to the face

Even you Mr Anonymous

The scarecrow now the crow

Allotted victories, obscene means

A swing in the pendulum

Just for the phase of time

Cloaks of their true nature

Soon the wanted hunter 

Shall be meat to the predator;

Or perhaps the host itself

Shall have a taste of the parasite blood.