The death being an escapism
might it be an enchantment
that go without any propositions
it be a way out easily
leading to the doors of salvation
or to the portals of endangerment
death becomes a source quick and fast
where there be an annihilation
where thee be an extinction
where there gets in destruction
that of truth in a sense
being very hard to accept
be it not in disgust
we go about in life
living as we want
not sticking to the code of conduct
leaving it to the dust
grabbing that comes in the way
seizing that arrives by the day
not bothered about the creed
categorically drawn towards the offensive
if there be an opposition
trash them out with utmost savagery
painting that it be a suicide
posing to be down stricken
pretending to be sad and tormented
that be the deal exterior
where there be a rejoice in the interior
the counting goes on one by one
finally there would no water
there would be no water in the ocean
that would be enough
that would suffice to clean
the hands that has committed sin
not one or two in the game
but many and many more to come
thus taking the flight
not that of reason
but hopping on straight into the bandwagon
selling the conscience
bargaining the incident for truth
all for the sake of money
all the more for the reach of flesh
falling short of animals
that have a sense of morality
though being 
trapped with only five senses
whereas the man with all his faculties sharp
condemns the truth to a fault
and gallops over it in a trot
a game well-played and well dramatised.
Meenas Poems 