The hand of Doom

 

The drought had arrived
Wilted
Shrivelled
Wrinkled
Crops,arms,faces

Beds in the hospital
Thick stench of hunger,pain,gloom
The hand of doom had gripped half the town
The hapless who tilled the fields
Faint mien of dismay
Can’t turn to the left
Can’t turn to the right
They make everything about themselves
The men who start revolutions were laid up in their coffins
And the women had their hands full with children and the home to tend to
The boys,illiterate,reckless
The older men knew the drought was not of Nature’s making
A case of negligence,
Populace -unimportant
The heart wrenching wails of hunger filled the ears
While young folk sought refuge in poesy

“Oh the wilted earth so cold
My heart mirrored in its sheets
A hungry orphan sold to the world
At every window,his inanition greets”
And yet,from hour to hour they see
More beds laid up
More coffins lined up

Drought comes in phases
With hoary clouds
And dies a death
Of a thousand shrouds.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s