The Withering Wellness. Poem by Subrata Ray

The Withering Wellness.

Can't you say, 'I am not well'
'I am inviting death in confused tales'
In the dismay of the bundle of parasites,
I seek in vain happiness' prize '

Can't you say the cause of wearing masks,
In the drudgery of bread, -your daily task,
How great, -money and sex! !
Ah! the slavery of an insignificant fake.

Can't you confess of your ill-education,
The art of employing hellish mission,
The dialogue of profit and gain,
The study of perversion in the brain!

Can't you stand on God-gifted conscience,
Can't you display your moral strength,
For drinking a peg of peace,
From dark to darker you are going,
Ah! the meaning of wellness, -you miss.