No one owned the tears, 
a tale of frozen pain, 
prayed in dark, 
making the silence harder to hear. 
A classic fire scalds the monument of life. 
A patch of grief here 
and there, lets out the mystery. 

A reclusive self 
between window and moon, 
unfeels the broken clouds, 
bangs the sky. 
Suffering the obscenities of the inverted earth, 
life propels you to go empty hands 
in your domain. 

Shadows are thinning. 
Waning moon crawls slowly 
somebody said, catch me if you can, 
my being. 
The world never understood, 
went on digging the holes 
in the hearts, 
burning the boots.

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