As the Sun sets horizon,
And a day turns dark,
Soul cries aloud
On a thorny dried bark.

A place where there’s
no mercy for the sin,
No hope, No light,
No plea and not plight.

Mind with a hole
with thoughts so deep,
I scribble on paper,
People call it creep.

I open eyes
And see a thousand rays,
No moths, No butterflies,
No soil and not skies.

I ain’t laying down,
Am not standing either,
A place so cold
I weep and shudder.

An empty sky
And a shady moon
Lifeless river
With a tiny little caccoon.

Here I am,
Under a dark nasty roof,
Asking myself,
“Alive! Any Proof??”




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