Dear poet, by seeking the mightier pen
Do not write the poem
Your overwhelming feelings
Will not be comprehensible by anyone
From writing hand, instead of ink
Blood floods are flowing
From the unsmoked dossier
Dialectic and feelings are not blooming
In forest and forestry
Ablaze is erupting
In that rage of fire and ashes world
Never discern it as illustrious and emblem
Dear prolific poet, henceforth do not write any poem
Dear Sir or Madam: Paul McCartney memoir due out in November
In those fragile sanctum and shrine
Where will it ignite the faith of light?
Where will it stimulate the far-fetched peace?
In shanty and ravage huts, the bombs are exploded
Where can we see cicada insects singing autonomously?
Landmines have inculcated fright inside the chest
Decently, where can we hear the exquisite flute music
In that criminal flagrant face
Do not see any Walter-Mitty dream
Dear prolific poet, Henceforth do not write any poem
When our own camaraderie goes against us
When our own abode roofs are demolished
When one’s face is accompanied by black color
When owns glorified history hurts
By infiltrating horrendous reality
In Everest the glacier bursts out when blood is stranded
Recently, the married woman was spangled with vermillion
Now, Do not show audacity for re-marriage of a widow
Dear prolific poet, henceforth do not write any poem
Rhododendron, Monal and musk-deer together
Became colorless in the mountain region
A gunshot wound scrambles the words
Deserted the barbet and Koel
Dove and pigeon are detained in a condolence cage
Lemon and nettle-waters electrocution
Exacerbated the wings
Cannot see any enlightenment of buddha
Dear prolific poet, henceforth do not write any poem
Somewhere there are varieties of rice pudding
Somewhere there is famished beauty
Somewhere there is a predicament of vicissitudes
Somewhere there is a bed of roses
When there are bleak and desolate mortals
When there is an orphan and thirsty
Do not apprehend desert blaze as a seabed
Dear Prolific poet, henceforth do not write any poignant poem.