Flesh-Angst

While the end of their worlds' at the brink,
For the grotesque dance they gear up,
Like before the funeral, The one last prink,
Matchless the earthly vices, We never wake up!

Swing and sway to the devil's tunes,
Tainted souls and mouths to feed,
Of a huge determination, Remnant ruins,
Necessity, Root of all evil, Avarice it breeds!

Whips on her stark naked back,
Lust bites by the dozen, None to complain,
Towards all this, Justice goes slack,
None but her to blame, A helping hand refrained!

Trade of flesh, The lowliest of dominions,
Obligations, Vengeance and broken dreams,
Whatever the reasons, Pushed into the crimson terrains,
None to shed a tear, In the silent night her screams..........

Procrastination..........

Desperate cries in the dark air,
Shells rain on the kindergarten shelves,
Sympathies of the world drowned in oil,
Not a single soul left to care,
Millions die even as a womb swells,
Over guineas and faith and mere soil,
They fight to their doom,
Along go hapless victims too,
To an early grave, A common tomb,
Like dunes of sand opinions change,
Another mushroom cloud brews,
A loved one's death no longer strange,
Call the romantics who only write,
To the flower in the maiden's hair,
As I write to the decayed blossom,
Which rests on her beloved's grave,
The sun even stops to seem bright,
The heavyset darkness surrounds,
Pervading grief and heaving bosoms,
Mangled body of her unrecognisable son,
Once the apple of her eye,
Only tears now wet the bloodshot eyes,
As a pink cadillac passes by,
He drives on, His own life's to save,
The wretched they search the chosen one,
Expected to fall right from the sky,
Tattooed into their hearts,
Beliefs of the passing time,
Anthems of rebellion lips they sing,
But none the fire in their actions,
Reincarnates the Angel of Death,
Manifests in a million hearts,
Misery and pain all they'd bring,
They wait for the evil sanction,
And spread hate all around,
Call them all who speak of injustice,
Sheltered from the horrendous present,
Should be the one roasted alive,
Not the commoner by the street,
Not even the industrious peasant,
Court-martial the one with the bullet-proof car,
Not the one who never took a bribe,
Justice, Justice the evergreen chant,
From the inception of the tribe,
Wayward minds and wayward wants,
The fools they wait in vain,
Anticipation of the holy rain,
To wash the blood-stained ground,
Dreams of another Newfoundland,
And we procrastinate...........