Anurag Talukdar

The Poison - Poem by Anurag Talukdar

Trapped in a bottle,
Smeared with dust of hundred decaying years.
A potion of death, fondly called poison.

It stares into the room,
The occupants oblivious to its sinister plans,
They aimlessly drift into amusing their past.

The table is served,
The wine is poured,
Their cacophony rejuvenates the poison's appetite.

Then an old man gazes towards the bottle,
Bedazzled by the innocent wrinkles on it,
Wipes it clean with his tongue.

'Vinegar anyone? ' he enquires.
They all sprinkle the scourge of hundred years,
Into their plates.
Slowly they all die,
With their soul still trapped inside.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 19, 2012

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