The storm in the night

 A furious night windstorm,
An angry dusty smash 
at the back of our head,
Some poor, weak roofs gone,
Injuries, deaths bemoan,
Broken panes, trees uprooted,
poles twisted, wires mangled,
Birds killed, injured, blown away, separated, 

Nests broken,

A poor family losing its mud thatch,

They cannot sleep,

nor can they weep,

They have a little way to kill the dark,

Subjugating it

and make it an ally

in cutting wood from fallen trees,

The trees that belong to someone else,

The day would show their ownership,

So they cut through the night,

The fear, the excitement, the rebellion--

stealing--

makes them numb to their loss,--

an anesthesia,

getting high on a paltry illegality,

A bitter pill,

And a practical drill 

for the young ones:

How to take small outlawed puns

in the face of miseries of life,

They cut with hard purpose, focus and labor,

They are used to hard work,

The chop-chop sound 

takes them in its sweaty grip,

The heap of stolen wood grows,

Caw then the morning crows.

They lost their humble house in the dark,

But they can be called lucky

to run out in time and avoid death and injuries,

Destiny can do only this much for them,

Now they balance the loss

with the heap of wood,

Then they quickly carry

the wood to their trashed home

and mix the stolen wood with the

house's mangled remains,

It now doesn't look a total ruin full of loss,

Carries it now the dusty gloss

of gain in the dark,

That little theft is the check dam

across the river of their misery,

They have saved something for a new day,

It doesn't feel a total loss,

This little illicit gain

helps them to forget the pain

of their busted little house,

The heap of this loss

covers their little nightish gain.

That's how the poor people live,

They use the heap of their miseries

in hiding their small short-cuts and stolen gains,

They then work hard on it

and knead it well

to make a weird concoction,--

the dough of life:

A mixture of hard work, sweat, focus,

tiny thefts, iotic cheatings

against all destiny's beatings,

They are busy again

to somehow stand against

some another storm

in the night.