Yet we will win

a poem by Christuraj Alex

Monodies on corona, like dirges, are often common
Many die, senses say, many are, like a carcass, buried
Amidst excessive ‘counts’ of ‘imported’ vaccination

Paramount time spent greatly on nationwide election
‘Masks’, ‘Distance’, they say, nothing ever practiced
Stars and models on ads advise petty pretty precaution

Jobless, foodless run long many a laborers’ marathon
Mothers, fathers, wives, children, kith, and kin unfed
Yet, caring, on their way, many helpless unknown brethren

‘Nation is fit financially’ ‘experts’ assure every so often
‘Rations limitless’ they say, who gets even mosses of bred?
Life becomes, for poor, martyrdom, every console gone

Rich becoming richer and poor pushed head and heart down
Normal citizens are seen, day by day, going hungry to bed
Corporatism has been becoming a common phenomenon

Prices hike like climaxes of tragedies darkness and no dawn
Slogans, as though, anthems and symphonies widespread
Normal natural life paralyzed as though existence bed-ridden.
Yet, like Jesus, we’ll surely win over deaths and rise again.