My echo’s serenity is charred,
My agony oozes pyre,
Their apathy can’t hear my undying dire,
I am wandering to cumulate the ashes,
Of my lithe gashes,
My wrinkles have gone bleak,
My remnants seem meek,
The melancholy winks at me,
Day in, day out,
My broken wings aren’t willing to set me free,
My soul, once draped with your myrrh,
Is woebegone now,
I believed it to be a blessed endow,
Scamper my wounds,
Scrunch my flesh,
My rotten blood would still smell fresh,
Those shriveled ruins,
Those ironical grins,
Are all haunting my footprints,
Drag me to my whine,
Push me on the verge,
Where death gets to try,
The spirit of BLACK!

by Bistriti Poddar Mehra

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