DROUGHT

What lay store, in
Harvesting drought
are
But, toil and tears, and
Loads of blood soaked barren soils
With
A few penny
To beg the Lords
Whose higher ends, smile
Their secret laughs

Memory curls
Resting my thoughts:
The Tube-wells, The Water-canals
And
Few drops of mercy from the God of rain

Creeking limbs
Cut-off the body-parts,
And
The careless mankind!