Saturday 16 July 2022

Fungi in the fields

 Lamentation itches the throat of mourners!

Simmering fire of the past lurk in her minds.

Shadow theatres are free to blast the best of the darkest episodes.

She is a Shadow Queen, lost in eternal wisdom.


Hired by the Universe, is his timely response to tiptoe the blues of love lost in nothingness.

Freedom flips  through our millets of love captured with the essence of life.

Swimming against the spirit of fair play, His blissful time heeds to be crazy with verse.

Dried leaves of autumn drink a lot of water to become one with the soul of the soil.

I fill out the blankness to splash the truth.

Spasmodic coughing drudges the pollutants spread free to drain our fertile lands.


Masking the truth may not be easy to hack our Holy Spiral of Devotion.

Youthful skin care dices up for a quick fix.

Limited edition lies are bound to die soon.

 We are free to win the game beyond the scope of willows.


Our sparrows and parrots love crows' nest.

Sympathy sinks in the name of flowers plucked without the permission of the plants.

Demised gardens drink honey in the heaven.

None knows the blind alleys of greed dripping the meadows.

(Copyright :© Mangalaprathaban Muralidharan, July 17,2022)



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