A few drops of water trickle gently down

Leaving a redness behind.

They leave a wet trail, slimy almost

Smoothening the path for their fellow followers.

The trail seems to be scalding hot,

On the otherwise stony cold and distances path.

I happen to know from past experiences

That the path was not always this stony, cold and distanced.

Now there seem to be icy protrusions –

Like icicles almost,

Ugly and stiff with cold.

The scalding drops of water melt some protrusions,

Leaving most of them still behind.

This again seems like a courtesy

They condescendingly throw to their fellow followers.

I doubt if the projections will ever be washed over.

But I do know one thing for sure.

The redness has come to stay

And the funny thing is –

You just can’t see it.