By a snake bite cursed to die
King Parikshit, in a tall tower locks
Isolated from subjects, children and wives
Paces in his room, unable to talk
Petrified he is, does not eat or sleep
Finally his curse, to everyone reveals
Every inlet to the tower is guarded
No slithering Naga should come to kill
On the seventh day, the famished Parikshit
Disgustedly, darts into a fruit
Hidden inside is a little worm
Which transforms into a serpent’s suit
Takshaka is the name
Its deadly fangs into Parikshitâ’s skin sinks
Spreads rapidly the venom
And soon breathes his last, the king
Destiny can never change
The fate of a pauper or royale
Providence decides whatever is deserved
Karma and dharma are inevitable
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