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MONEY : SONNET 191

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


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