Moving by my city on a dark day

Whose houses these are, no passerby Know,

My house is in this mysterious city, my woe;

Nobody will see me, lost and forgotten here

Even near my house, puzzling, strange and raw.


My friend and family meet, only to tear,

And failed to enlighten me and cheer,

Between the houses in the dark lane,

I see the darkest day, but I don’t fear.


I gave my best friend, a call plain;

I asked if there is any happy gain,

He says, there is no traffic gimmick,

Free of polluted air and dusty sick rain.


The world is sad, dark and sick;

I want to leave it silently, with a blink,

Years of howl, don’t pine to live and wink,

Years of howl don’t pine to live and wink.

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Posted in Freedoms.