The leaves of the tree withered at the onset of autumn; rendering it as bare
and a pathetic sight to witness,
Although the body and trunk were still alive; did scream passionately as the
wind slapped and caressed them.
The most majestic of reptile shed its skin while undergoing a metamorphosis
of seasons; partially annihilating its grandeur,
Although its slithering body still traversed in circuitous routes; and its fangs were ready to strike injecting lethal venom.
The mountain sheep had their fur sheared for weaving thermal contrivances;
leaving their appearance as shabbily disgraceful,
Although they still wandered in harmony on the colossal slopes; bleated in
unison as dusk stealthily encroached.
The austere sun god shed its brightness as nightfall took over; resembling an
insipid reflection of its original identity,
Although it still shone brilliantly the next morning; illuminating stringently
every bit of cloistered gloom.
The slender iron nail lost all its gloss as monsoon showers poured incessantly
from the sky; giving it a deplorable appearance,
Although it still maintained the capacity of being embodied in the wall; and
still had the hostility of piercing the inflated balloon.
The fermented barrel of milk lay bereft of immaculate white color; resembling
worthless chunks of flaccid curd,
Although it still produced an extremely piquant taste; had reasonably high
levels of salubrious nutrition.
The flying birds shed infinite numbers of feathers each day; looking
bedraggled after being stripped of their kingly plumage,
Although they still retained the power to fly; soaring high up in the air and
procreating their progeny.
The banana after peeling its intricate skin appeared as a dilapidated urchin;
shivering uncontrollably in the wind,
Although it was sumptuous and relishing to eat; and its pulp caused ravishing
sensations in the buds of taste.
The biscuits of gold after losing their shine; resembled the mundane coin;
failed to captivate attention,
Although they still had the same value; could fetch their owners an astronomical fortune when judiciously traded.
And all the old folks traversing the streets; looked a sight to profoundly
sympathize with; clinging tightly to their walking sticks,
Although they still had the power to love; the power to overwhelmingly
fantasize; as they were young and innocent at heart.
YOU ARE READING
The Power of Black - Poems on Humanity , Social Cause - volume 2
PoetryThe Book cardinally aims to end the negative perception and energies associated with the color black and the under-privileged sections of the society. Many a different times the utmost exhilaration spawns from a persons disability as his/her desire...
