Cold drool collects ,tears too,
Stains the pillows, sad slow crawl like death,
Cruel ways of life , birth and death entangle ,
Some created, some given , some just there,
All just by sheer chance of birth and life's weaves,
Cancers created and chanced,
Cancers of the soul never could be cured,
They just drove the pathos of life ,
Designed cruelties... and called it life...
And some called it God even..
Poem by Pc-3( 04/11/2025)
No comments:
Post a Comment