Scavengers

You are caught up

In the turbulent storm of desire,

Your quenched throat

Mulling over waves of euphonious fire.

Your existence is deteriorating

In the wafting wind of wars;

People are poison

And you get to pick yours.

From the corpses enamored

In the charade of gold,

For gilded tombs do not reveal

The incongruity that they hold.

Glazed eyes look out for you

Imploring your capitulation,

Souls stir in their coffins

Bringing armed levitation.

Magnets still attract

Iron that is rusted,

Greed still attacks

A cursed jewel, well encrusted.

You blindly walk towards your doom

Kiss the festooned burial ground,

The gates clamor shut behind you

In this necropolis you are safe and sound.

Your existence and being

Have now become strangers,

You yield and embrace

These conniving dangers.

This palace of illusions

Has ceased to be a hologram,

Mortification and pain

Make a cherished amalgam.

Hungry souls bear their fangs

Prepare to feed from your ethereal charm,

But fear not, says life

Death causes less harm.

The chinars in the wind carry the news

Of your obliteration,

In Kashmir doom and death

Make a sinful alliteration.

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