In weak psyches of human beings
A superstitious worm makes
A dent and long niche,
Weaving its cobweb
Where His greatness grows
In dead darkness-
A ridiculous puzzle
Wrapped in intricate mysteries, hard
To be cracked thorough
Through the prism of reality...
In grim nights of souls wrecked
Set on their pilgrimage,
Swooned and doomed
In the eeriest valleys
(of Kedarnath ) Of Death,
Shrouding the shrine
No light descends to lead the lost
No compassion flows
Nor hands from the celestial sphere
To hold their sinking hands
To safeguard the lives
Struggling for a gasp of breath
In the whirling vortexes
Of callous catastrophe…
