The Orange Beast

2 Min Read

Jannatul Ferdous Tulona

 Right before the sun flares out

a Beast creeps into the city 

on tiptoes, on his furry orange striped paws…

A little perturbed, a little starved

He growls softly, letting the city sleep 

Timidly trespasses the somewhat empty streets…

One night ago, the city was ever-so-loud, effervescent, 

blood ran in its veins in eternal triumph!

A child wails in the distance, somewhere far,

quickly hushed, hurriedly put out, 

He must sleep, no one must go out.

Another keeps crying, somewhere in the streets 

He cannot be hushed, they’re out of milk

It’s a crisis, a curfew is on!

Only muffled sighs are allowed in the air now!

Shops, Salons, Cinemas, Colleges and hearts

are sterilised, wiped off clean, snapped shut! 

It’s time to run! It’s time to hide!

Death lurks in the heart of the city, 

merciless, hungry, arms open wide

Soldiers in white swarm over sick ridden beds,

one or two brave ones fall,

The others, they go on, day and night

ruthless, when it comes to saving precious lives!

The army in black, 

the dirt-takers, the guard-keepers, the two wheelers, 

they go on too,

for them, the city shall not suffer,

Proper food, hygiene, and security are what matter.

The beast, at the end of his road,

lets out a sigh, stops at the city-gates

A moment later he decides,

as long as Death does not leave, he shall too, not leave the city’s side.


Jannatul Ferdous is a procrastinator by day, poet by night.

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