A Desire For Furthering
My Move.
( Please do
not berate me as a person
SANS patriotic fervor, but this
is a
Blatant ,inevitable depiction of the contemporary scenario).
I like
this House, a sacred Abode,
Where I know the set things
Where I kept, also comfortable with.
I need move, a change.
I
wait, long for, also pine oftener,
What about
those for whom
Doors are shut. No Chance .
But I
need to
leave this, a Move,
At least for a
while. To soil
Which promotes your creative aura,
Lands where language and literature
The lustre
of which glow, fetch you peace
and serenity. Here
dirt and waste
cankering our bodies
and
corroding deadly our souls.
Garbage
and flies pile up, despite best efforts
to keep
alerts of sanitation
drive.
Money from coffee
houses to coffers
And coffins
thence to crematorium,
Looks as
if people are eating money.
You are not allowed to do
Your own work, your salt is not yours.
Realize, no point raging, or racing through
The rusted
times. The country of Vedas
And Upanishads
has
been slowly
Going asunder. But I am sure
That something
we are searching
We will have
one day. This is
My house,
my land of
firm stand.
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