Coolie

 

A Hero from the past,

Living in the simplest of Empires,

Amongst his forgotten Soldiers.

A Distress call from distant lands

Memories of Lifetime spring back.

Hand from the past bids us to into 

The World of Our Hero, 

His Tropes and Our Day Dreams Completing each other.

From the annals of their Sufferings 

To Face the rich 

A Gallant Parable of the Poor

Repeats and goes like this

"Rich Strand the poor with their deceit

 Unsurmountable Suffering 

Finds its way out with Belligerent Bravery

An Act of Desperate Violence 

Warning call to the Rich, 

A Momentary assertion

Of Poor Man's Fiefdom.

Each year a Show where

Rich lick their wounds 

Poor its day dreams"

Many Promises to Many Friends

Many Revenges for the near and dear

Many Sacrifices Many Sermons

Many Jokes and Many Dance Steps

Reel and Real fling each other 

These verses of Stone.

With those etchings of the past

We Arrive at Today.

Where,

Bad is the Rich 

Rich is the Power

Power is the Virtue 

Virtue is the Burden 

Good help the Bad

To wipe out the Meek and Wronged

Rich mix the Good 

With the Bad to enjoy

The fruits of both.

A Dichotomy Long gone,

Poor can chose to be 

An Ant or A Fly or A Rat 

They grope into the Oblivion,

Waiting for the Rich to haul them

Into Many pools of horrific choices.

In This,

Real hero is one who tries 

To disentangle himself 

From the mesh of the Rich and the Bad

So tightly woven around his Daily Bread.

He looks up the Screen for a Solace,

To see His Hero warn at the Neo Rich

Using his same Older Wit,

Words Unchanged across decades

Tribute or a Farce

Sighs and Believes,

Sighs and Disbelieves 

Garnish this Thoroughly Beautiful Spectacle

An Aesthete's Delight which

Shines like a Tribute

Repeats like a Farce.