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Poem

That day, power-greed 
sparkled, in his vision
like a festive crescent
and all the anticipations of the inhabitants 
missed their trail, in the gloom of the night

That was the day, akin to his first step towards the authority

That day,
the crocodile of the voracity to lead was belching… 
in the moving lake of his spirit

That day, ominous crescent, being sting 
was aching, like the stern dagger wound
in the eyes of poverty of the motherland…

That day,
a gloomy battle opened its’ eyes in the lap of the homeland.

That evening of December 
walked-off vanished in the womb of the history… 
perpetually, sewing the stars of darkness of centuries, with the hem of the universe

That power-chair now, is lying in the backyard of his abode, 
being a source of relish for the words of his libidinous, dissolute and penurious - compassionate companions

& today,
the intellect of the whole realm, 
lies in the feet of deprivation

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