On The Run Poem by Hans Raj Sharma

No session of prayers-
Getting finished or complete
Until ‘She' enters into the head
Mind or brain of the unholy leaders
Of congregations, getting together there!

Like a log of dry dead wood-
Body's inactively calm and cool
As if left unclaimed amidst woods
And the active army of white ants-
From all directions taking the charge
Making their anthills thereon the earth.

I, you and we, all watching
Regular instances happening
Nearby, in the human-jungle
Around, every now and then.

In a clumsy profile-
Devilish-instinct dominating
Without any divine restraint
Finding on every inch of land
Unique missionaries or ‘BABAS'
In the disguise of virtuous souls.

Literary folks, getting after crazy and mad-
Feeling ashamed of, even God is on the run!
-Copyright©hrsharma®2019
Ludhiana Punjab India.