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Md Iqbal Hossen Feb 2018
She couldn't see my face for long.
I told her, I will return to your lap,
But, I was imprisoned in a cage of brutality.
Flesh, blood, chaos were my daily food.
I fecklessly took the taste of these.

There was no lights.
The moon never peeped through the cartain
The Sun would never rise
Only the hunger of flesh was existed.

There was no peace.
It was a day dream of optimists.
They waited for the new sun
And charished a dream of Icarus.

The air was polluted.
Anarchy, monarchy, and cruelty were floated in the air
The only perfume was the rotten flesh
And decomposed body was the mask.

The surroundings was full of music.
Nuclear weapons, guns were the instruments
Tanks, bullets, and bombs composed the melodious song,
Inhumanity was passionate audience.

Today I am a winged bird.
I fly in the boundless sky.
I sing with birds, and take fresh air
The sun, the moon, and the stars are in my feet.
I smell the blooming flower
And observe her inquisitive eyes.

I touch her but she doesn't feel.
I see her cheek burns with tears
Climbs down to my emancipated body.
I call her but she doesn't reply.
Someone holds my body and keeps me in a coffen.
She brusts into tears and scolds me a 'lier'.
michael mcAdam Apr 2014
each tear is like a razor cutting my arm
each day apart is a coffen for my heart
ever time she is mad it melts my heart and replaceses it with drakness
ever time she laughs it makes my high
i just wish i could tell her this
instead of crying
cristina i hope you find out about this but i am to scared to tell you my self

— The End —