Ashes In The Belly Poem by Riyaz Yamish

On a midsummer eve
A fellow who felt
In his own psyche and soul
To instill
Trickles and drops
Draughts and saps
Scrounged everywhere
Searched every ground
But no! ..
Water, no food
No bread or wine
Nor butter and cheese....

Oh! ..
What an idea
He purred like cats
Chirped like birds
His mind being struggle
Notion is swerving
Vices and viles
Penetrated to naïve minds.

Wrinkled, wrangled by
Lack of butter
Then one dream
Led him to reality
'Gush forth, rush ahead,! '
Mortgage his lass
Sell his daughter
To whet his appetite
To remove the ashes in the belly.

To be quiet with wine
His soul wandered
Through the lady killer
Lecher in the valley
Seeks the sexual gratification
Who want to quench his thirst.

The fellow beckoned another
Who still hope to
Calm his hunger

Customer and consumer
Sat in valley of hunger
The meadow of appetite
They sought solutions
To relinquish from
Stirring stomach

Bought after sales
Received after giving
Bagged after after providing
Daughter for water
For draught in drought
For trickle in hunger.

That fellow was...
Farmer, peasant.
Ploughs in fields
Lost his spades and shovels.

Alas!
Hunger got refuge in daughter.
Daughter got resort in hands moral cheater..