Caste Cauldron

..in the place where Caste Politics thrives and kills..

Malpractice.

Neutrality in vain.

Survival questioned.

August is a month of absconding,

People know,

But, selflessly pretend

To suppress

Their lonely friend.

 

In the Cauldron of Greed,

Filled with hatred,

Mired in misery:

In luck and anger

Rested the other

Killing themselves.

Why?

 

Losing mannerisms to ego,

Burning eternity to death,

Seeking kindness in fire,

Lacking tears in the defeat,

Unofficial proclaims,

Silent mishaps,

Power Politics,

Lucifer is with them.

 

Caste, unknown yet named.

Fake. Empty.

Filled in dusty ink

Embroidered on the fabric of society,

With the euphemism of Love,

Haunting the innocent,

Rocking the vulnerable,

Breaking the calm tide,

Forgetting the Divine Love.

 

Peace cannot die.

It lives, somewhere,

Sometime it will show

To the Caste Cauldron no more.

Let the ripples settle down

And gain the energy

Hidden in the mist of truism,

Faint, yet, appalling.

 

p.s.: How can a person be a place of birth?

       how can men become the occupation of their forefathers?