Hope, life outlasts, the wait, for rain
The Holy Grail, for a, betrayed land
Is not, bread baked, from, borrowed grain
But peace, standing on, war’s quicksand!

How a, nation’s ethos, begs each day
For a, hope of life, with, death’s despair
Every cradle, lay, silent today
Where, funerals last, longer, than a prayer!

Whilst, bullet costs, dearer, than bread
For blood, to spill; irrigate, more hate
Political vultures, devour, every shred
Of, what is left, in a, ravaged state!

A bane, baptized by, tears of sun
Life is mirage, chasing, death’s shade
What ties, the two, in unison
A Hunger, Of, Many A Decade!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra