Listen to me, sit here with me;
Break my your calm,
As spring of my life retreats,
I am listening to the Eternal Silence.

Stammering my speech,
Each eruption a meaningless bang,
Colours frolicking my eyes,
Fading thoughts of past, troubling me.

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Air I know to be dressed with gloom,
Promises are filled with helpless pain,                
To make a helpless place,
Like, buds of roses at the dying of summer.


A place of reverence an illusion,
In social backyards conveying ignominy
Long in abeyance withdrawn by undecided
Even bright sun and sky too, worried and cloudy.

Brothers identifying differences,
Toughen their sphere that diversity waters,
To augment their control their cosmic vast,
Prelacy futile save it will benefit them.

The quiet and voiced the lifeless and dazzling,
The frail and the sturdy, I am your autumn;
Come be seated here with me see my ensigns,
All the old and fresh, alien and native, axioms here. 

A concise cue that illustrates,
Why life is superior in range to any act of change;
My ecstasy to list of those disgruntled pledges,
Death does not lead to death.

But fading to snooze for a time of break,
A new life of manifestation to ponder quietly,
The guilty civics erroneously geared,
To loathing of change, I am autumn.

Come sit here with me to create a new world,
A new sketch of sounds to appear with,
Unsullied decent grow of wider sympathy,
Waked up in spring, leaving despair and grief behind.



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