The wick of sovereignty is seldom lit,
as abstinent as they might feign ,
once times perilous , yield to wit ;
It is the epoch of despotic reign…..
The manors, once bustling with ambrosia,
now wither in vain ,
acquiesce for a morsel gone by,
as parched as can be , without rain……….
Hitherto all but one perish,
“Ludicrous it was!”Some doubt;
as goes on the insane bout ,
A moment’s notice seems unfeasible
yet an hour did he cherish.
----------R.Ajay.Kumar