The leeches

By Sudha

They crawl on my corridor, making an invisible trail

In water that stagnates, they gently sail.

Meting out messages that, for posterity, prevail

and weave stories of wish, woe and wail.

One inch, two inch and a half they stretch;

their verily flat bodies eternity fetch.

Hoping to cure men of sins by their touch

And making this place a better-to-be hutch.

They might as well be old but I see a hundred of them,

Fresh from their wombs of intractable mayhem.

A little more than pin's width and a little light than the onyx gem,

They bridge my gap with mankind's past, singing a nostalgic anthem.

I hop, skip and jump out of caution immense

And make sure my days are filled with fear intense

No, they don't compare well to their shell-bound friends,

The snails, conspicuous and their tentacles bear lens.

Here am I looking at that blue above,

Notwithstanding my murder of a symbol of love.

Hoping forgiveness to whosoever they owe

A million lives, joy and a livelihood row.

They symbolise a ton of mystery-the-dark,

And trumpet the entry of providence-the-stark.

Oh how did they reach a niche of fruit and the bark

in curing diseases of men, sucking life without a mark.

I move on to make my business and bread for my way,

Lo! They ignore and tumble and budge not in the sway.

The heavens pour cats and dogs both night and day

But they ignore and tumble and budge not in the sway.

For once I know why, in my life, misery fills,

On joyous occasions, though, prosperity kills.

They leave not their anchor though tumble they will

And wait for the nonce to bring another windchill.

By Sudha