I am bound by my empty belly, sorry for the betrayal

Humans are up for sale, the last resort to quench hunger

Morals cannot feed you, but money will

Sapna lay with her hands deep in hardened soil, she went beyond the surface to dig herself up to hide her protruding belly. She looks back, and frail and feeble-looking bodies come near to her. They looked at Sapna with hope. At the same time, she starts digging the ground, as they watch their father lying with hands folded on his belly with eyes closed. The demon has taken the father to the demonland and now it's their turn, but the thing is they are Angels and not demons. Two kids limping and folding their hands on their stomachs and lying near their father, they ask Sapna, “Ma I am hungry!” Sapna gazed in their starlit eyes. Gopal and Ram looked into her soul. Sapna had a loaf of bread, she tore the loaf of bread and gave them each half. Each had hazel eyes, and their green curiosity intellect was jarred due to lack of nutrition. It was as if their own bodies were feeding on themselves. Sapna stopped digging and two teardrops glazed the depression she was digging.

Hardened Soil, Water empty, Utensils cracked, the fear is intensifying as hunger, the golden age of hopes and desolation,

Everyone’s free, the coarse hoax of a selective message, all fail as 1 billion of us sleep hungry.

Not hangry but hungry, Hangry is for tier 1 feeders, but the bottom malnourished are in impoverished circumstances on a roll of perpetuity,

All the clandestine integrity, pomp and show, of the oldest democracy, the Western progressivists all stare at the bum dum, they are humming hum hum,

Too chummy the oldie with a fat belly can feed the barrage of countries is sickening and laying himself bare-bodied,

Fantasizing countryside, of all things natural and cultural, the ritual is often of infanticide, suicide and being taught ecocide from the core spaces.

Their hogwash wants to wash countries in a tide of corporate doom, how infectious is development, It's all growth but no consequence to the earth.

Unearthing these stylized paradoxes, creating a generation being conditioned to think all we do is justified, the human advancement is staring at its reckless self.

The food systems are designed to infringe pain and turn you lifeless, pushing you to a terrain marred with all kinds of bacterial outgrowth.

Then rush to doors often drawn or designed with a circle and plus sign together, a den where diseases foster, a disease of infecting people with financial disaster.

The edge is too near, in fear, if you look in the extremes, you will die regardless, it's a matter of time.

The world has spiralled into deeper levels of density and has consumed everything, you are there inside the wormhole of the inner world trapped and forced to see Sapna with her sons, about to give up on life, for their father has already bid adieu. Take a moment and see the dead’s famished face, the drying saliva looked as if that last salivary gland’s drop made of water and sugars dried out and that man had to die of dehydration. Her sons are panting with no water in their bodies to produce sweat.

When rhetoric is all you do? Invade countries in the name of bringing civilization to doorsteps and instead annex the spaces or place puppet governments to solidify and extend your interests, people are not fools to see behind the unfazing spaces. Supporting interest with a facade of opportunity brings corporate culture back and they take control of the services, and this forces Sapna, Gopal and Ram to lie dangling in the consuming and devastating death.

Sapna wakes up and her boys bring in their brother wrapped in a clean towel in their hands. Sapna takes her newborn baby and walks in the quest to look for good people to donate her another child again after 3 years. She does not want his fate to turn similar to her husband’s. In the cacophony, all things gut and rut, you never want to let your kid die, but pretenders are lurking, watching, tailing you, every day and every time.

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