Revolution Poem by Ajit Das

Revolution splashes multi-hued beams:
wavy green carpeting barren brown;
milky white washing away anaemic pale;
bloody spring dismantling steely tyranny.

From the dusty memory lane glints velvet
that erased long past emblazoned red.
Now ablaze - the fury of yellow fire of rage,
leaping at the crafty graft's black face.

Rumblings grow louder on the horizon.
A storm is blowing over the mindscape,
breaking all shackles, walls of divides,
ballasts of the stinking status quo.

The conflagration of a new Armageddon
engulfing the rusty, creaking system,
the spectrum of hope heralds a new dawn
like a rainbow on the rain-washed blue.

Or is this all another Mirage, a fury
that will spend itself?