Dead People
Smoke is making cloud
Composed of innocence and loneliness
More I inhale more I get relief
But my heart never gets satisfied.
My heart keeps on jumping
Creating the rhythm of wilderness from unconscious
Perhaps all the desires and longings are fresh
As morning dewdrop shows its color.
It was a strange emotion
I had never experienced before
I felt like being thrown in the dungeon
Deeper and darker beyond imagination.
Suffocating in the dead silence of noise
I saw statues moving and acting
They were pumping some stinking gas
With pride and honor of achievement.
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