The Droplets

The droplets,

pattering down the window.

A mist of sorts,

clouding my mind.

I am in the train,

and the train is in me.

I look out,

into the country side.

and see the horror

of the city, it’ll soon be.

Houses of mud

turning into glass.

They lose their warmth,

become dead as logs.

The grass shining green,

turns into asphalt.

The cars running on it,

have replaced horse-carts.

There is light in the eyes,

of the folk of this village.

It’ll soon be taken away.

Their innocence and love,

will turn

into hunger and lust.

Lurking around the corner,

I see the Satan.

waiting to pounce upon

the lovely children.

The beauty of the country

lost to glamour,

will lie brazen on tilled lands.

Human-ness will be lost

in the deep crevices,

beyond the reaches

of this petty creature.

And, humankind

will have reached back

from where it had been begun-

the state of it’s advent.

And turned animal once again.


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