MONEY Sonnet 191 Money. Whoever knows not this quintessence Of life; like water, air, and light, that it Occasions life's survival, growth; and hence No soul -- be a master, monk or man of merit -- Can escape the grip of death the moment They are deprived of it? But life's this key, Unlike the Nature's divine gifts, is bent Over the barter betn you, they and me, And holds the give-receive-and-live foundation For the existence of the human species. But this money, which's our own creation, Has fallen prey to avarice, hoards, abuses, Blunting the fabric of our living system -- A suicide pact by choking the breathing medium. ©️ N P Samal