Thursday, April 9, 2009

Malarial Monsoon

Drenched by cloudburst at dawn
The sudden coldness
Of shivering malarial fever
He continuesPlotting a sweet revenge
Of acts committed
Seven generations hence
Crimson stories
Wrapped with fury
Stewed with each succeeding breed
Begetting a decade of pillage and plunder
Under the weeping heavens
The gray desolate hills watches
His daughter leave
With backward glances
The gray desolate hills watches
Her brothers buying her
And she sells herself
In little morsels

1 comment:

  1. i have read few of your poems and like them. what i like most is the ending, it's like another beginning. good poems!

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