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Apr 2020
Mother I want to go out
You are my true friend
But where the dogs are
They bark and howl
I once strolled the sold out stores
Where no cold fog settled on the windows
I shall come back to stave away rainy splores again
There will be no heat left in summer
To water the clouds in monsoon
To wail in the forked night
Who feels dour now
As we drink to our evanescent escape
Or face the fire on the final hour
Merely existing
Maybe, as deadly whirpools
As the wind rakes in the leaves now
As autumn warmth decomposes
Wasting into an unbridled heat
The azure skies seemed beautiful yet irate
None compare to my favourite
Red dusky light in anticipation
Every evening for a lonely winter
As summer moves in evanescence
The year looks older with seasons
Without music, life would be a mistake.
Aditya Roy
Written by
Aditya Roy  27/M/New Delhi, India
(27/M/New Delhi, India)   
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