It’s time to talk to time about its increasing tardiness,
Cannot overlook the concept of fleeting moments-
Since they do not spare life from the tumultouos events,
Like stubborn crabs, they hold on to the heart in an agonizing way.
Counting time on the fingers has imprinted grief instead of lines;
Water sickens the skin but still won’t wash them away.
Woeful clouds and stink of lies shroud the entire environment,
When many thoughts of flight from such time have been abandoned;
The fragile wings have not given enough hope, and the winds were inimical.
Perpetual negativity has coloured the sky, for their sighs form a clumsy season,
To even think of freedom is considered to be a rebellion-
Stifled night and emaciated shadows surround the fragile ego,
Counting the curses have replaced the daily prayers in this time.
One cannot see the sunken earth, but the hollow feelings pull the soul into an abyss,
A tedious time filled with tardiness and the blankness is threatening.