A Calm Voice

In this Kaliyuga where pride overshadows virtue
Blasphemy in every action, physical or mental
Where motherly nectar seldom reaches a mouth
And that mouth be fed by a nourished beast
Master biased and corrupted by era
And the pupil a pupil no more.
When my heart is toiled with affairs, so
Irrational and forbidden as such
Just like Gandhi in the Gita
I find my own solace, in a voice
Not so sweet, nor so hoarse
But the best,
That calms my heart and soul,
A ruffian a sweet home in Christmas
But a fear so unmistakably universal
That threatens the source of my solace
Life is so fragile I ponder
And then I grit my teeth
Gulp down the inevitable with saliva
And hope to reminisce these moments till the end.

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