Inverted Poetry

In my repose, I
go for an illusion. The new legacy
has a queer say. No kissing.

A hostile love breaks
the earth to enter the hole of gifts
in the fading pain of success.

Living for only bread, but
no salt. The sweetness betrays one day.
A dead person gets up after sleeping on a pyre.

The poem has political overtones. People are not bothered about politics. Politicians give gifts to win. Living only by alms from politicians makes one ineffective. Only after total destruction common man wakes up.

Rajendra Singh Baisthakur , Nellore, AP, 524003