Hungry voices

Hungry   voices.

Those   indefensibly     dead , still   rig out

Of   their    half    burnt  bones, care  to

Somehow    speak  to  this   uncaring

 Sadistic    world  of  diabolism:

The     still  burning  embers of  the

Burnt  wood,   remind  the  sad  tale

Of  bygone  ,   the   dead , resonate

With  their   craving  angst  

Irredeemably  suppressed  

For some  reason  or  the other.

Tapping  the  cold ,chilled  ,barred

Doors  of  Justice,  Some  familiar

Passers  by   rehearse  the  poignant

Faces ,out  of  gratitude,  record

Their  voices on the   tawny   stalk,

I  refresh   those   lines  as   I pass  by.