I am walking on the road
There is no one
I look around
There is no one
Time is too less
Death is around
The grave is burning
And no one around
This is an end to my dreams
Which I was weaving all my life
Alas! the parcel of life ended
In a blooming age of 26
Some rescuing hands, Inhumanly butcher a life
“to err is human and to forgive divine”
Thinking its life
I died without
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
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1 comment:
oye why such morbid thoughts? You are defenitely not dying NOW....and who knows what we call dying is only a beginning of a blissful life after??? Cheer up and abandon harbouring such deadly thoughts, okay? Smile, smile, smile!!!!!:)
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