Poetry

Transformation

Transformation in life
Supposed to
Rejuvenate the whole self
Once in a while
It’s a social
Political
Ethical
Personal,
Even biological
Necessity
The rut of life’s wheel
Moves on the same keel
Which rust and dirt envelopes
The mind’s rust makes you
Psychic, the major part
Unbalanced, unsteady
Creates a queer, chaotic
World of its own lybrinths
Which allows no escape, nor respite.
                                                    
Transformation
Has forgotten it’s meaning,
As being traumatized
It’s doing its job well
But inversely, creating
Crooked cacophonous creations
Spraying confusion all around
Humans sprawling senselessly
In the stinking mud of inhumanity
Still transformation is needed
With miraculous twists,
Else the times would revert to ages.
                                                    
~Dr. Kailash Nath Khandelwal
Agra, India

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