The lull before the storm


Did you hear that stomach rumble of hunger…

The rumble growing to a thunder…..

Thunder that drowns every other sound

Listen… head to it.

What  stamped as downtrodden and lowly being

May be soon slithering up the throne

To spew the venom


The sounds of churning…..

Halahal ready to be brewed .

And no Shiva in sight to drink it.

The parched throats have waited for long

Quench them before they may seek the blood

Minds need to be chiseled

Achievers may be carved out.

Or they may develop the edges

Sharp to inflict the wounds.

Arise, and act to avert the storm that comes

Damn it path with the boulders of some action

(Action, a rare commodity these days)  

Mitigate it with tremendous desire to serve.

For the hand that rules should be the hand that feeds.



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