Burying all signs of
Delicacies
Culture
of hypocrite’s flourishes in
Impotent
pomp
Yet
rotten blood rushes through their veins
In
hollow achievements!
The
earth has transmuted to a hell!
Sun
rises, ashamed,
To
hide his face behind scarce cloud- specks
Or
sky churning
Smoke
emitting chimneys
Can
not withhold rays
What
to do?
Throng
of languid shadows
Keeps
on surging forth
Breathing
in stink of
Pent-up
ambitions
Neither
they can weep nor the Sun
Over
their fall
What
a destiny!
Sun
must has to course
His
way through
Caressing
entire world
With
his infinite fingers of rays
No
matter how much filth
Stains
his soul
Making
him furious…frustrated…
Heart
exploding in anguish…
Still
he must course…
Just
can not hide his face or cease to be
Infinity
is a curse!
In
fact he seeks a heart
Little
alike of human
That
can make his heart stronger
To
neglect his own heart
Or
like the philosophers he wants to be
Those
can justify all heinous acts
Or
of those poets
Those
can trade emotions so easily!
But
it is not destined to happen.
He
must rise perpetually
Must
struggle with his own-self
Must
course through the space
No
matter how enraged he is
Or
sorry he is
Below
his divinity
Exchange
of cursed insanity
Is
at crescendo
He
must hide his face
Behind
the horizons…!
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