Can't I describe old age as the ultimate curse,
That falls unsparing, on each, as no human
Has, by muscle or magic, got life reverse
Its fatal course of baneful condemnation?
Has voice of Nightingale or Nelson's valiance?
Can either Bachchan's show, Mukesh' Antilia,
E'er stop conviction of the Nature's sentence
Or, say, the inborn divine anathema?
Yes, I do know, you've steer'd your life around,
To credit, many crashes, bugs, and battles,
But whither do you travel if not bound
To cradle of death of rotting bones and muscles?
By chance, pass we may by vast casualty;
But can we jump the Geras' finality?
©️ N P Samal
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