The indomitable

Hungry world.
Beggars all around.
The rich and the poor,
the young and the old,
the weak and the bold,
men, women, children
perpetually cursing, blaming each other
the one thing they have in common
is that they’re all in need for more.

Refugees and land-owners,
vagabonds, nomads, 
city-dwellers owning one 
or multiple
high-rises, skyscrapers;
all are busy begging from beggars
some taking, some snatching alms 
milks, meats, meals
dishes of deals.

Pages are dark with ink
leaves are turning brown
written stories draining the crown
drying with drought
like dying warriors; soldiers
beyond any doubt
never seem to be in sync.

In this drama of life
I am also starving
never to lose the appetite
to write; trying forms and norms
to shock-shift frozen thoughts
it seems I am set
words are failing, yet
there is this one energy,
that of love, pouring on the stage
guiding, guarding, greening my garden
raining from above, at every little stage.