Poetry

Crux of the Story

Far away are the hills

the mountains are at a distance

clouds too are perched elsewhere

the roads are full of potholes

arrest soar…script hindrance

 

the river too has shrunken

water has turned shabby

birds have shunned muddy water

prefer to remain thirsty

feels like …

a prolonged spell of macabre melancholy

has set in

 

flora and fauna have walked miles

rain does not touch them and kiss

nor is it  in love with the earth

anymore…

these are not mere statements

but stark naked reality

remain matters of core

 

strong blows the wind

gale and thunder overpower –

shrieks and screeches of broken souls

in claustrophobic lanes…run helter skelter

 

canvas of anguish

depict many a gray century

search for …

“what has gone wrong?”

and that remains crux of the story.

 

                                                                    ~Sujata Dash

                                                                    Bhubaneswar, India

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