God'S Own People

By Ashutosh Das

Enshrouded the eclipse,

stigmatizing the crack of dawn,

Gilded historical heritage of denounced destiny,

some sons of God's own kingdom.

Buried the lady justice,

The corpses of their worthless life,

Still keeps burning,

Enshrined the soul, in mortal coffined cage, saga of suffering can be heard from within.

Hollow body and bones,

Fleshed with golden garbage, bled the blood of adversity,

Resonating rumbles of unfed stomachs,

Fed with squalor of squalid poverty.

Sculpted sand castles,

The tiny hearts and hands, washed by the ocean,

The ship of their dreams,

remain undestined , devoid of any motion.

Variegated colours of Creation,

Dreamland endears one life, one celebrates his life in a dream,

Let's shelter, feed, and equip them with books, inks and colours of imagination,

Let's make a better world to reside in, where the sun shines with erudition.

By Ashutosh Das