Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2018
The echoes and thrill of the wind
Comes beside me to remind the sins
I was a fool burnt in agony , lost at a height
and there’s no escaping it
These millions of ambassadors of the sunlight hit me on the face , take away my sight
The myriad small creature we are , consumed by continuos decay ,
And there’s no escaping it.
A lot of chaos , the end of the mayhem , one day will come, upon this land ,
All will be wasted and there will be sand... Oh sweet sad Satan , please let us suffer here in this tool shed...
Aazad
Written by
Aazad  20/M/Delhi, India
(20/M/Delhi, India)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems