What boxes in those fields they lie
Like mammoth bricks of hay they dry
And drench again with divine elixir
Grains grow maggots and in bales they die.
A mechanized life among desolation thrives
Of green vastness and legal bribes
Engrossed in intoxicating hormonal pleasures
Which a violent soul of mockery drives
Along labyrinthine highways of some mystery
Untouched trees spell unquoted history
Of companion losses in years gone past
And stony revolutions with a million listry
In lanes and bylanes, the essence is lost
Of boundless fire in life does cost
By unprivileged beings in an alien world
Blood turns water, their labours lost.
Petaled souls turn bricks and stones
For unfriendly shame they break their bones
Oh! Can’t save their aspirations drowning
In daily seas of nervous groans.
The poor grow beggars out of desperation
Bearing piercing yoke of His creations.
This thorny path chosen can’t be undone
By sullen eyed angels who practice reorientation
15th August 2004
Archie's Doorstep 