CHALLENGE THE THRONE

Drooping heads and spread out palms -

know this, its for justice, not for alms!

The fingers have clenched into a fist -

like raindrops joining silently in mist!

Political doings are the scum of gutter -  

once whisperers, now they publicly mutter!

Those incessant tears, now the slowly roll - 

know that all eyes are still on the goal!

'Marrow of the State' slowly got rotten -

values, ethics, greatness - all forgotten!

As the logs of the old bungalow creaks -

the system with time slowly breaks.

The deaf will hear the suppressed groan -

shoulder your duties, challenge the throne!

Let it dwindle, ruin, crumble and then fall -

hasten the process by joining hands with all!

Prasenjit©2024

FROTH AND DIRT

As the boil goes on

the froth comes up and

the dirt in time goes down.

Delay in justice is a con

against the protesting band

while the culprit flees town.

While in sorrow, some weep on

and the unknowns joins hand

with the conviction not to drown.

The sly clouds have gathered upon

all over the hot fuming land

in a quest to save a dirty crown.

The beaming rays will proclaim dawn

letting others know we took a stand

removing the king masked like clown.

Prasenjit©️2024

THE NAKED KING

An ‘unstately’ state crawls on its own lies -
as countless mind perish, wails and cries.
A body is no more, a carcass calls for help -
pity those dumb ears that block out the yelp.
One can never, ever fully burn it or bury it all -
‘Time’ has mocked them, in their rise and fall.
As the scorpions sting so do the snakes bite -
what humans may do, none presumes right!

The ones unjustly snatched, they are gone -
while the ones living, painfully trudging on…

Pain made them sore, pain made them numb -

but make no mistake, commoners aren't dumb.

Before every tidal wave crashes upon the shore,

it recedes and strengthens itself to its inner core.

Let not this be a mistake any statesman make -

stirring of wrath and peoples' mind in its wake!

Circling slowly and steadily the wheel is turning -

resentment, anger is on the rise and churning.

You may tear a twig before it reached its prime -

nothing goes unnoticed even in the pile of grime.

Beware King! The boiling of blood is on the rise;

A concocted and torn story can never win a prize!

Remember the phase? It happened a decade back -

those innocents are now on your very same track!

Prasenjit©2024