The angry of Sudan

Angry people, desperate for change,

Calling  quits the fear of fear,

What promises can they swallow?

Which threats of death would they hear:

The one of lazy hunger-of death of  self

Or dying for others, by the spear?

For change, for others, Sudan cries,

On the streets she dies...

By blood they rinse the guilt

Of the kingdom they built..

Question to the greedy world

For all the sweat and toil

For all the energy I burn,

What in store do you have for me,

And when do I get it in return?

Tell me world,

For fairness sake,

Does life involve giving

Or merely just a take?

Damon and Pythias

Dionysius the cruel king, 

So jealous of a friendship;

Planned to destroy apart the trust, 

Damon and Pythias did keep.

Day in day out he sought,

But to find  a fault he did fail;

Yet he made up his mind that Pythias,

Be put behind his notorious jail.

The wicked king, jury and judge,

On what charges he could not say;

One can infer, though, that he desired,

Between Damon and Pythias to create a  bay.

Even worse, desperate the king,

When Damon  for his mercy pleaded;

That Pythias be condemned to death,

In a few days, he decided.

A desperate friend in desperate days-

Running out of ways-

Pleaded again for the king's mercy,

His sister and mom in a far away land,

If Pythias for the last time could see:

He would put himself up in jail,

In condemned Pythias' stead;

Signing, if Pythias couldn't come back around,

He would be the one to be dead.

So estranged the king did feel,

That he immediately accepted the deal.

Pythias ran and swam,

Across the desert and the freshet,

So he could take care of his mom and sis,

And be back by the death date.

And come back he did just on time,

To see Damon, with no crime,

To be hanged made ready,

Yet melting to tears, already:

For Damon wished Pythias be late,

So Damon would meet Pythias' fate.

The king saw,

All this in awe,

And for the first time felt mercy;

Having learnt the power of love,

Damon and Pythias he set free.

Disposable me

All used up, all dry,

Like a fallen tree done bleeding;

Disposed of as trash,

Deposed like an abhored  king.

A little knowledge

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing",

I read slogans and heard many it  sing,

But who of the many that chant the song,

Have not the little knowledge gotten wrong?

Who of a humanly sage,

With so much knowledge-

Out of danger, therefore-

Wouldn't care for a bit more?

All-knowing, all-safe, a human trace,

My little knowledge challenges to face.

Quid pro quo

In an ego-infested world,

Such as is ours the case,

Everyone else but self is prey,

In a one-way street of chase.

But in an ideal world  of modernity,

We need not be told 'do this or that;

In the land of conscientious men,

One gives a tit for every tat.