Blue Ink
Blue ink
Down the long,thin digit
Looks like a molehill
But,like faith,
Can move mountains.
Or,at least, the giants
That pretend to rule
Miraculous blue ink
Deciding the fate
Of a few
Who decide the fate
Of the teeming multitudes.
As serpentine queues snake their way
Through cities and towns and villages
No one dares to speak, to say
Who they elected king
(Or queen,as it may be
For India throbs with diversity.)
And they exit the booth
With solemn faces and jubilant hearts
At having,yet again,
Shaped the fate of the nation.
Down the long,thin digit
Looks like a molehill
But,like faith,
Can move mountains.
Or,at least, the giants
That pretend to rule
Miraculous blue ink
Deciding the fate
Of a few
Who decide the fate
Of the teeming multitudes.
As serpentine queues snake their way
Through cities and towns and villages
No one dares to speak, to say
Who they elected king
(Or queen,as it may be
For India throbs with diversity.)
And they exit the booth
With solemn faces and jubilant hearts
At having,yet again,
Shaped the fate of the nation.
Superb Anu!! KUDOS to your DIVERSIFIED thoughts on ELECTION!!
ReplyDeleteVande Mataram --- SHRI