081. People Of The Fourth World Poem by Dipankar Sadhukhan

We are the people
Of the fourth world,
Having no category,
No religion, no caste,
No wealth, no property,
No discrimination at all,
Breathing the air
Full of black power,
Struggling and struggling
Only for existence.

Vegetations have scorched.
Trees are standing
Like the light posts
Without flowers, without leaves.
Fertile land has become barren.
We are the inhabitants
Of such a world
As if 'tis between Heaven and Hell.
Here beams of sun and moon
Are filled with shining darkness.

No food, no water,
No oxygen we get here.
Children are sucking
Their mothers' breasts
Full of nothing or poison

Eyes have left dreaming.
Our brain is becoming
Dull and powerless
And senses are drowsy,
Paralyzed and benumbed.

We are the residents
Of the fourth world.
No relative, no friend,
No enemy we have.
Minds are now empty.
No word is coming
Out of our mouth
Only some meaningless sounds
And groaning reach
Our auditory organ.

We are the inhabitants
Of the whole world.
No distinction is found
Between beasts and us.
Our eyes are closed
Or gazing at nothing.
Beauty, Love and dream
Are million miles away from us.
We are waiting only for
The light and Love of God.


By Dipankar Sadhukhan
Kolkata, India.
'Love, Another Name of Divinity' No: 31
Copyrights@March02,2014(1: 05 am) .