“When asked to bend some chose to crawl”
How low, how low, can Man truly fall,
Dust, of course, must with dust meld
But, not while life’s hand is firmly held.

The hierarchy in Man is understood
But, we have one for gods too,
My god is greater than yours, my friend
To mine, then, you must also bend.

Where and when does Conscience leave us
What’s the colour and the route of that bus,
The one we board when we’ve lost it all
‘Cause we prostrated, did not stand tall.

Weak is flesh and weaker the mind
Driven by passions and the reasons we find,
To deviate from the paths that are right
As, with eyes open we lose all sight.

We’re more than emperors and mortal kings
We’re gods in heaven, masters of all things,
We order, we cajole, but mostly we fool
With promises of Utopia and benign rule

To unleash on the silent majority, a tyranny
Of proportions inhuman, sadly,
Till another of some other hue
Does the same to those who have no clue

And, then again, it’s one for all and all for one
A lost race never meant to be won
By those, who live by the sweat of their brow
Till the land with hoe and plough
And, those who move from stage to stage
Today’s bow on the morrows' front page.

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 30 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)