Your presence is benign,
On this planet,
Unto Mars your scent reaches.

Finish the pending job,
Articulation is the work,
Reaching far is your scent,
Tackling this humourously,
Ending this ode I will be,
Doomsday seems to descend.

A** rainbow of blood,
Not visible to humans,
Deathly is the scent.

I mean it for real,
Totally serious.

Wasps from hell seem to sting,
As needles of repugnancy *****,
Sadness descends for forever.

Himalayas seem to be an escape,
On the change of atmosphere,
Rows of roses are required,
Right now and right here,
In an attempt to save us,
Breathing became hard,
Lost was the will to live,
Early was fresh air needed.