Pandemonium Poem by ANJANDEV ROY

It is late night now,
Silence prevails almost everywhere except in the big hall,
Where the night party is on,
Listen to the clamour there,
The men are absolutely jubilant,
Their joys know no bounds,
In the silent bosom of night,
It is the real pandemonium.
Beside the narrow street the wretched man is lying ill,
Suddenly he begins to scream in intolerable pain,
But it reaches nobody's ears,
The spirit and exuberance of the dazzling party suffocates
The painful cry of the helpless man;
Gradually the man becomes weaker and finally stops screaming forever,
As a result the pandemonium comprehensively wins the game.