Oh! My fellow travelers

Oh! My  fellow travelers
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Oh! My fellow travellers
The time has come
To a point of hinge
At which the doors
Of history flutter with prophecy
Not for bloom
But for gloom and doom 
Of course the woods are
Deep and beautiful but with
Deceiving divinity..
The wolves fill the woods
With deadly hymns and chants 
To kill all the serenity and harmony. 
Now the doors habe been
shut and sealed
To ignorance of caste and creed.
Our franchise fell apart bleeding.
We voted ourselves to be looted
By the slogan mongers of
monarchy couched in holy sentiments.
Our hard-won constitution is imminent
To be torpedoed or thrown to nowhere
 up side down.
The justice of social equity is now
A wounded swan to which the hands
Of hunting with fury and frenzy
and with moth-eaten concepts
of god and godly stories claim.
Religion is but a frozen myth
a parasite of past on our
present and future
and
always cutting our bridge
to a way of light and wisdom.

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ruthraa e paramasivan