By Abhishek Kumar Anmol
Nature becomes irony where the wind blows in detection
It gives a painful loud voice where bustle in the opposite direction
We collect the dirt from everywhere in the society
People were thrown everywhere in the society
From a single packet, lots of germs spread
We are facing lots of germs challenges by dead
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We can raise our wing where fleet everywhere
Until someone cut and blood is coming from everywhere
Should we collect our small seed again we flourish it
Can we grow a small baby plant to come out from it?
Can we blame nature become the angry vision
We make weak to come out a happy vision
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We can cross our limits where the hump
Should never do that foolish deep
Nature is in direct contact with oxygen
Until we don’t breathe always shouting clarion
Our pond and rivers become like a planet of hell
Where we are cut tree and body drifting inside in them all
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I can sit around the pond find my relative
Where they come from and vanish easily in the hall of fame
By deep voice can somebody raise a hand?
To help everyone and they can heal better from a wound
Every day I can still be waiting to stop counting
Where the body serve and sealed in wrapping
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O my motherland so can you save us
Until my body goes in beyond of us
From two year life seen as a black monster
On our head, they can come to every door
I saw a carpet of the body were lying where an area has seen alike
It saw like an ocean of dead bodies on the black surface
By Abhishek Kumar Anmol
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