Elegy On The Death Of Margaret Thatcher Poem by Sagnik Das

The iron-mettled voice no more shall ring -
In prowess unmatched, crafty words so bold:
What lethal smack of gracious wit they bore!
Whose sublime wryness, flawed though seemed betimes;
Could yet prove apt to coax a thousand 'wows'.....

..... Mrs. Thatcher -

Gently-charmed as ever now in death.....
To sundry eyes, a shrouded myth appears:

Which, choose to love or loathe as much you may,
Would still in mortal hearts its presence bear....

Lo! - all she did was done for Britain's sake,
In high-hopes that those long-gone days be near;
A Lady staunch in valour; dearly mourned:
Let's bid her gently, just once – au revoir.....