Shelters like cemetery and crematorium

Tonight my shelter differs not from a cemetery,
Although consciousness is not dead,
forcefully buried is the body.
We are our enemy here,
brothers delete brotherhood
and doomsday is near.
The life lives without soul,
Why here is more solitary
than a north and a south pole.
Wrong is the saying that there are three colours,
Look at the thousand shades in my place,
Mentally diverged shades indeed,
Sky and nether world, the demarcation of life
that a city and a village lead.
Some rooms flooded by tears,
no hut, no nut and they shiver.
Elsewhere a party of light, no time
even to sleep at night.
Oh! hence a strife, a big fight.
A vast unlike in two yell,
one vouches for the liberal wealth,
others oppose ringing a communist bell.
Some advocate radicalism and Mao.
But between all these,
young aims on the road fear to step forward,
there is peril of electric mines,
but they hope the sun shines.
But hope remains hope when
Rhododendron smells bullet,
blood from mother’s breast, here jasmine is red.
‘It’s too late’, ‘it’s too late’
where is the trust? where is the just?
when peace snows, only blooms the rose.
needs tranquility and serenity at any cost.
2
Oh! another invitation for fire offerings,
and I, an unfortunate guest;
to see the acrobatic swing of future dreams into the blaze,
cannibal to become, smell the flesh, I taste.
Smoke of ashes all around,
I choke when it surrounds,
I ran for the windows’ frame
there again I see the flame,
who is it? the peace advocate of east,
crying loudly, cremating the peace.
But certainly shall this dream end,
on the eve of morning, the night will cry,
light fights, wins and darkness shall die.
 

By :- Kedar
e-mail :- kedarguymere@yahoo.com

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