Bedecked from head to foot,
Hungry looking tools of intimidation,
Unlettered in the doctrine of humanity,
Serving the whims of the wicked;

A show of farce,
Ridiculous aggression against the oppressed,
They conveniently look away from primary responsibility,
Only to brutalise the common demand for overall betterment.

Darkness,
Inflation,
Bigotry,
Nepotism;

Unemployment,
Terrorism,­
Kidnapping,
Medical tourism;

Miseducation,
Ethnic cleansing,
Mediocrity,
Tribalism;

Unease of doing business,
Multiple taxation,
Weak currency,
Egotism;

The shamelessness in high places,
The sycophancy along those corridors of power,
The visible aloofness to pressing needs among the masses,
The sheer policy of deliberate regional disempowerment;

Everything points to worse times,
Only the dead need not worry,
For the living, deafening chimes,
A worrying state of statelessness.

Nobody knows, will ever know,
Can only imagine,
The curves that life did throw,
And the response engine;

Live a day, or two,
In my emotions,
And try also, do,
Sleep with the commotions;

Then come close,
To even begin to believe,
That you share a dose,
Of the times that I live.

In bed, darkness, no power,
Bingeing on Supernatural,
Terrible pain around the lower lumbar,
Broke, not a single dime in my PayPal;

As my daughter lay sleeping beside me,
My son in the other room with his mother,
I suddenly am aware of the things I fail to see,
That truly I am blessed beyond any mundane bother;

But then again the morning brings its own worries,
My ageing mother afflicted by pain of her sister's loss,
Barely enough to save up for vacation stories,
And a country that does not care about us.

Everyone is hungry,
But no one is angry,
Choosing to embrace this life of suffering,
And all the time smiling.

On this day, it was a Sunday,
Just like any other day,
A lazy afternoon after morning service,
Day turned into night without notice;

I lost a dear friend that night,
With whom I earlier shared Christmas delight,
Cut down by a mad driver,
And never to bee seen again, never;

Many more would taste eternal transition,
The still dark murk welcoming them into oblivion,
Such was the terror of exploding ordinance,
The earth shook, hearts stopped, silencing all new year plans.

Beyond the gates of that year,
Consider the heavens played a part,
Be you lucky to have crossed,
A crossing quite significant into a new start;

Because not many will be there,
Not a few succumbed to our fears,
Of the sheer wickedness of the past,
Eight horrible years of blood and tears;

Whether it be a fortune,
Only time will indeed unfold,
For there's actually something here,
A better story waiting to be told.