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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