Vultures
They are concrete cemeteries
Of commoners’ cherished rights
Where sleeping vultures are in wait
For hapless living corpses to step in
Only rustling sounds of currency notes
Can arouse their spirits aloft
Into bustling activity of remorseless hustle
Like stimulating smelling salts
Behold! They are cartels
Of our great bureaucratic stalwarts!
They assume, they’re taking home
Bounties (booties) of their smartest schemes
But by the time they sense
They are only carrying the weight of their sins
Burning they will be, in Avernus kilns
poem by Sathya Narayana
Added by Poetry Lover
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