As the Days Go By
PROF BADRI RAINA
These are days of great unease
For the world’s residual democracies.
A breed of no-nonsense ones
Man the slogans and the guns.
They suffer no uncertainties.
They have outlived Socrates.
Prickly bramble from the hedge
Invade the center from the edge.
Slithering hates stand erect
And spew venom to infect
The disempowered innocent
With purposeful murderous intent.
The wise ones wait their turn
Confident that the poisoned churn
Will not but run its course
And terminate in a giant remorse.
Those that actively resist
Taste the fearless, knuckled fist
Of righteous gangmen who strike
On behalf of the god they like.
The god winks and understands
The good work of these helping hands.
Green leaves look red in spring,
There is a sting in everything.
A smiling mongrel ambles near
Unbeknown to where I stand;
Without reason he fawns at me,
As though good days were always here.
Best to use the mongrel’s faith,
And spread the word of imbecile cheer.