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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 02, 2016

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Submitted: June 02, 2016




The fault of the world was simple,

It was too stuborn to live.

It was too tired of my lies,

While I was tired of its truth.

While we wore shattered glass,

From Jewellery stores

As ornaments of blood.

And millions of graveyards danced,

As the dead bodies slept past their bedtime.

While civilizations burnt,

And the flames gave way to evolution,

 knowledge started exploding in our brains,

A crooked man dreamt about eternal beauty

And cursed himself.

Angles started dying more than humanity ever did,

And Gods started praying for their lives.

Choking on the screams of truth,

We forgot to choke on reason.

And a child of Anarchy standing nearby smiled,

And faded into reality.

© Copyright 2018 Reet Bhattacharya. All rights reserved.