Musing 89 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Souls born deficient living upon the potion
Of implanted traditions and surmises are stones gathered
On fragile rocky mountains often been washed away
With caving impiety of soil unaccountable in raining.
Souls departed with tampered knowledge partly sown
Were grown in sterile wombs unfaithful to deeds noble
By generations lost upon the toiling perspiration honest.
Ungrateful selves slyly seeking the smell of last penny left
Burning the midnight oil mistrusting the glow worms
Refuse to count the bones rattling in emptiness.