On Contrast Poem by Vaibhav Simha

The gale embraced the detritus of the city
Which fell in the war of not long ago;
Round the wells lay somas burnt,
And rimmed with horror was the survival of serenity.
There was hope no longer, amidst that disdained farrago;
In there was, for the cinder of euphoria, a hunt.

Swerving by the dead, the famished searched for food;
And nightingales looked for a branch to sing,
But lay naught but the despoilation of lives.
Far by the rivulet, settlers sat in the disparity of the city mood,
For twice-moons before, its populace was adorned with a skirmishing ring:
Of now remained nothing but labefaction and consequent social vibes.

Those twice-moons before, men amongst each other quarrelled and bantered-
Engulfed with love of ghastly mortal things, mortified was their heat;
And remained ignorant of the precarious tie these had with them.
But when their eyes did see their "precious tokens" depart from existence,
All of them flocked together and vowed to forget that abhorrent reminiscence,
And to their furnace-cores did they ordain to selfish traits condemn.
Round the fire was the motion passed of splitting up the meat;
Their hearts within were warmed; with each other, they chattered.

Since when has misery brought us together?
Has that signified the fall of the good heaven,
For it is not ecstasy that bonded us merry?
It is the prowess of selfish tether
That has manifested as our ruination's beacon.
Prevent this, O' man, and euphoria shall come to you in god's ferry.