Musing 149 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Masqued people are queuing
To grace the temple of Oracle
With long tentacles beneath their spectacles
To read aloud their papers wealth.
Faces unreal with baggages filled with perceptions strange
Will swing their grand titles towards the moon
Before praising each other tails in husk voices.
These fellows from unknown tutelage
Will litter the darkness more for the glow worms
And will dine with the swindlers for diffusing knowledge.