By Shonil Gramopadhye
In those morbid sleepless nights,
A voice echoes and cites,
The questions and doubts,
The wrongs and rights,
What makes me Human?
What defines my light?
A desolate chill that frights,A certain coldness bites,
Silence envelopes the mind,
Dies!A hollow shell full of despise,
Lurking under the murky skies,
Whispering sounds that chastise,
Until the glimmering light of the sunrise,
Hits his face and he cries,
The echoes of his sorrows rise,
As the morning breaks with tender sighs!
By Shonil Gramopadhye
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