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Reshma Moharana

Abstract Horror

4.0  

Reshma Moharana

Abstract Horror

Worn-Out Souls

Worn-Out Souls

1 min
23.6K


Millions weary foot

Pacing along with the steel grids and on the streets

En route to homeland

To unite with their love ones

From the countless plights

Pandemic is just another suffering

Their miserable lives on earth

Is a pyre of ceaseless despair

The silent sighs

Is eloquent in their arid eyes

Agony is overruling

The hungry cry

Miles, they have to cross

Under the fierce sun

How can they stop?

Ailing parents waiting to their return

Circumfused in fear

They are walking

To escape from the Black Death

Touching their soil is their only hope

The silent shriek of the souls

Echoing abysmal

Without a means of redressal

to the woes of humanitarian

They are no cursed creatures

They have flesh and bones like us

The world has ever disregarded their emotions

Only because they are paupers


There is a gambit between stranglehold poverty and covet-19

Let’s watch who is winning

To guillotine these distress beings.


This poem is dedicated to those millions of migrant workers and their travails that pandemic has rendered them.

They are walking thousands of miles emptied pocket, emptied stomach to reach home


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