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Human brains vie with the complex research dwelling in labs,
unshackle the deadly covid19 virus in universe,
Making one vulnerable perish to earth,
inflicting the pain, with each one restraint
momentum arrested  and  birth restricted

realm doomed,  nowhere to move
mind weakened body losing the personality poise
we humans will fight and again rise
to make the world a dazzling nice
even though we have paid the hugh price.
Along a bridge sat an old man,
staring at the sky, like an insane,
But, alas, he had lost his both legs,
that is why he seems to beg,
with a long white rugged hair, holding crouches of pair,
his clothes were in rags, with no one to care

He wished his death to be near, for his heart bled, Iris shed tears,
cursing almighty for giving a lame life,
unlucky to have a caring, beautiful wife,

deep in the mind was sorrow, for not a soul will pity over his grave,
when he would vanish into earth's crust,
to be a part of nature's dust.
The chilling darkness with a fright night,
dawned a labryinth with a dead sight,
the roof of the world falling on the wattle huts,
and tremors created, shaking up the earth's crust

The catastrophe occurred without one's conscience
the lightening struck, rocks crumbled,
as the banshee waited with bated breath,
to ask, O God, " cui Bono" ?

The lush green fields flushed,  dancing the lullaby,
thou, who curdled and nurtured us like thy baby,
asking " why thee destroy us, who created you"?

That the graveyard left no place for burial,
the earth created a grave for undead,
I ask you, "O Mighty, where shall I find peace to lay down my soul"?

As the mothers womb evacuate to parturite,
the devil of krakatora arose from the earth,
and created a black hole as smooth as silk,
my heart cried, thinking"Holy Aborigines, cui bono"

with richer dreams slept the human mind,
their thoughts fulfilled, by diversified montony swinging into action, I ask,"Is these flesh worth only to be crushed by stones"?
The Storm

The sea of clouds crowned with feathers
Laughing at the stars, tearing Stormy weather,
Fighting with the moon to make way for the rains,
Ire on face, giving nature the crumb of pains

The flowering of the Lily, and the swirling of the dews,
Frightening bees, looking for beehive nowhere in view
Sweating and sprinting against rising puddle,
rushing to the leaves, to cuddle each other,

the Peacock dancing on one leg, with rabbits humming the rhythm of rainbow,
and listening to the Opera from the cuckoo's nest,
behold the moon hiding aback with despondency,
to bath the orb in a blanket of gleam for survival of nature.

Madhusudan Dabhole

— The End —