How It Proceeds

Days do not breathe anymore

Swaying with gloomy feelings

Shaping the mood of humanity

Piteously watching the changes

Once, beauty was promised

Now, only the offensive screams

Emanating from the sullied spaces

Fewer communications these days

Rushing towards delusional dreams

Scoffing at the idea of patience

As much feeble consciousness feels

Unfairly the days have been treated

Punished for the unworthy dalliance

Raconteurs have been silent for long


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