Musing 161 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Who will medicant the dead and livings
If the evening comes before the noon?
Those walking with scratches are multiplying
Like the viruses unfriendly in our arteries
And are Ill afforded to revitalize the cells,
Rest are with feet inconsistent for advancing
And are lingering between stagnation and progress.
Some of them although are sky kissing
But can not navigate the souls for healing
Towards the absolute relief from groaning.