Voice Of Anguish Poem by Uma Pochampalli Goparaju

It is where Angels don't dwell
Where gates are opened to fall
Into despair, loss and gloom
At midnight as the wolves cry

And the moon rises high
With orange glow around
Penchant for blood, flesh
The roads downhill, winding

Through the abyss leading
Into unending infernal pit
That is where they all go
Whether it was fresh

Or out of habit to harass
Young, old, woman or child
Men or beasts, only in form
Them beasts although christened

With godly names of kindness
Patience, love and strength
Still cause grief, and endless pain
Why is there no one to end this?