Pitiable Plight, a poem by Asif Sultan Matta



Pitiable Plight!

08-01-2018

The spider of ailment squatted on his head
Forthwith, did it weave its grey ugly web 

round his poor being, gone is his wellbeing
Cooped and disabled, his vigor away fleeing

Caged in a corner in his dull room
His face misery reflects, and an abject gloom

Stifled wrath his heart nourishes within
For the flagrant apathy in his kith and kin

Baited does he lay like a fish apalled
Ceased his tremor, awaiting for the haul. 

©Asif Sultan Matta


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