The Wicked person. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

Some people are
unique and genuine,
tender unconditional help
even after coming across
many hazards,
expect nothing in return.
Some go on assisting but
refrain from it as soon as
they sense troubles
in their progression.

Many are neutral, self-centric,
neither help nor bother.
Whole time engaged
in their own routine,
never wish to interfere.
The fourth type don't help,
Poke their nose into other's affair,
land them in critical conditions,
derive enormous pleasure.

The last category of people
are wicked, dangerous, deceitful.
They are like charcoals
Which burn your
fingers when hot,
can blacken the same
when cold, not acceptable
at all

They are deadly
poisonous snakes
set with gems on fangs
even when highly qualified.
Venomous snakes may be
tamed by mantras and medicines,
but no means are there
on this earth for them
to be mollified.

The best way to escape
from his painful clutch
is to keep him at arm's length.
Else one loses his moral,
emotional and physical strength.