Disorder

Hushed minds obsess over some trivialities; discouraging frigidness feels morose

Picking up the impure particles to connect the dots and form a grainy picture

Hands glued to the frames as if some magical adhesive is used to enslave them

Disturbed sleep in hostile beds contort the body into some disconcerting shapes

There’s not enough spine left to stand upright while walking around the chaotic kingdom

Not even the soul can console the extremely timid heart due to persistent inclement weather

Artificial elements are swayed at will by the chemical stimulation in a humongous simulation

Bitterness grows over the deficiencies which leave the frame in a derelict state

Pills do not cure ills when the battered territories cannot recover from the clutches of maladies

~Amitav

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