God, you made the despondency in me.
You enchain my life with redundant sunshine.
I am tired of seeing my children’s morose face.
Look at them they are throbbing for it,
For a bit of tears from unfaithful nimbus.
They are feeble than I ever seen.
Their curved thickened edges are gone.
Their robust roots are now flimsy.
God, I implore you that give them that enchanting greenness.
Raise them for many lives.
Look at them, their dried roots are still moving to accomplish their appetite.
God, you cannot chuck them in front of death.
If you still scrooge for a drop,
I will keep them alive with my implacable blood.
Fate, you corrode my dreams.
I am still ignorant about life.
Fate, you made me to walk with torn wear.
You made me beg with my trembling hand.
They call me rotten face, without knowing my desolate life.
They don’t know I am begging with a poignant heart.
They stare at my ligature,
They burble about my half hand.
I implore to fill my faint belly,
Fate, you made them snigger at my face.
But I was happy,
When I gave my amassed coins to her.
She wrapped me with her malodorous hands,
Called me son with a shrieking sound.
It made me zest to beg for her a thousand times more.
The room filled with the cry of pain.
The foul air thickened around her nose.
Her delicate red lips were filled with blood.
Blood sneaked through her round acne.
Her comely eyes were blinking faster with fear.
The half broke house shaking for a last time.
She winces for a breath.
She is lying on the floor like dead trees.
Her tears are getting drenched in blood.
Her blooded tears are dried by the passage of time.
The yelp of the ambulance vanished.
The afresh air filled around the broken house.
The only residue is the dried wounded earth.