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If the hierarchy lay with the downtrodden
Then one would know what life really means
The sweat and labor would have shown the true colors of life
The hungry battling for a piece of bread
And feeling satisfied with the last crumb
The heat would not have mattered
Only the prized rain would have been a blessing
Making one heard through the tears of God
Yet the conquest of the never ending war of life
Will not end
One labors continue till the last breath
The consequences of the burdens of responsibilities never ending
Society's norms drowning one
With the family's rituals in expenditure beyond one's reach
Illness becomes a curse
Expense of medicines and hospitals frighten one's existence
Life is a sword which kills and makes one a criminal to be hanged
Death is a mercy ticket to an unknown domain
Perhaps fear and thoughts die away
And hope commemorates one to the next world
I hope it's not the same there as here
Silently we go away !!!



A mosaic of fields
of gold and emerald green
sprawled across the land
Beneath the arcane mysteries
pervading the serenity of nightfall
bathed in the pale light of a cold moon
That shimmered in the light drizzle
seeping from a canopy of clouds
thin as gauze adrift in the empyrean
High above a slumbering dominion

Where memories of a forsaken yesteryear
were re-enacted in the reveries of the supine
Vivid now, as alive as the day of their conception
Bringing to life anew past joys and jubilations
reviving forgotten regrets and sorrows

While shadows lingered tween the trees
whispering to the midnight mists
As they wafted across the realm
under a canopy of velvet indigo
adorning a sublime eventide

And the spirits of midnight
journeyed through the dreams and visions
Pervading the imaginations
of a sleeping world
Where they told of the mysteries of eternity
in murmurs and melodies
Through the hours of night entire
while a darkness impenetrable
swept across the surface of the earth
for a time and a while


In this random world, I know things.
Have been up and down like black
And the white blooms in the garden are twinkles,
Like jacks and roses.
The story post, a description of life
Have been published and polished in bed.
A hood of reddish judgments went with no garment.

This descriptive phrase portrays my greasing tears
In my eyes as a curtain of night falling apart.
The pathos was kept in stock,
And my body began to soak up the lost,
Miserable ode of an orphan.
A slim dumpster filled my heart with exclamation;
A hole of nowhere teased my hope in a drowning sea of grief.

I revolt strongly against those oafish treats of yesterday.
Now, I am standing in omen;
The presence of God strengthens me
For the battles I have yet to face.
To it, I promise to be the talisman
To hold some magical power to protect from evil.

I am better prepared to face this flood
Than a rain that falls continuously.
I am stronger than the storm
That broke every roof yesterday.
Lastly, I am known as the woman king
In this fight to conquer and save
My motherland from terrorism.



In sigh the day
With evening, its drowning ---
But had been its freely got of sunray
With the familiar part of morn! fairly glowing:

But, at this time! courtly is the sky
With its likeness of bridal dark-blue wake...
The triumphant lay, with July
The goodness lead to an August my eyes take

As an unenchanting romance:
O' lie not! for speak the words of a heart
In sink of spirit; having to by chance!
Borne the further go of cold wet flow in depart

Them! bodies in burdensome float...there above---
O' how the flow temper the plains about,
Sweet is the thought! I savor with love; However! it would be resounding echoes of joy! were
the heavenly sunshine ring out



Although I never held you
Still I can miss you there,
I see the dust is settling
From this rocking chair.

I dream of that silk softness
Before the sad awake,
I see the wind is blowing
Before the bough will break.

Somehow there is perfume
If I could breathe it all,
I see the so shy sunlight
Falling upon the dividing wall.

Although I never kissed you
Still I can feel you there,
I see the clock is turning
From this rocking chair.

I dream of that silk softness
Before the sad awake,
I see the season changing
Before this heart will break.

Somehow a precious perfume
If I could breathe it all,
I see the shadow calling
Climbing that dividing wall.


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