Aniruddha Pathak Poems

There was an over-amorous duck
Ah with three willing females, what luck!
But when hurt in action,
He got an infection,
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Those that death, defy
And those that never ask why,
Never would they die.
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He died in great pain,
Deathless still and not in vain,
The rest proud remained.
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Grey woods wearing green garbs of rain,
In gay abandon dance in rain.

Monsoon-mad, losing old restraint,
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A poem's like a window
That opens up to the world.
Words that crackle like a crow,
Ah sing here like a songbird.
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Some say, man's made of dreams born of desires,
Some swear he has a soul of sacrifice.
Cravings that kindle fire create quagmires,
And man ends up paying a heavy price.
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A fellow-feeling in the bosom,
A fellow feeling in the bosom,
We know different are,
But not yet how far,
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From early evening's crimson red,
Dark clouds had begun to invade
Along whole of sunset arch
And soon it was all dark.
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He who has good health
Has life-giving hope,
And he who has hope
Has all worldly wealth—
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Oh this Wuhan virus,
A virus so perfidious,

Once crossing a Wuhan street,
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