Kaleemullah Hussain

The Road

Somewhere, in the mid of crowded, soulless and violent Roads.
The long! Endless queues of machines stuck in the grits.
There are cries and sorrows in the soul of wind,
The frozen daffodils raving in and around machines.
The violent roads in the flames of crazy cries.
Disturbed and depressed folks screaming at each other,
The sirens of ambulances and honks of anxious minion's
No one in peace, everyone in hurry! For nothing,
Walkways flooded with the obedient slaves, bowing their heads to the gadgets.
Everyone holding a mask of smile over their crappy face,
The floors of restaurants, parks and the free corners are witnessing the vow of unsated love
Here I reached to my pagodas queer and cold on the humid bed,
Stinky smell of my strolled boots is fragrant than the ravaged bloody roads.
Here I go!
The Humming noise of fan, squirrel whistle and fissile of leaves,
Drowse and I courage to dig deep in the dark corners of my soul.
At this verge of darkness there is no spark, out here I drown.

Topic(s) of this poem: anxiety, crowd, immaculate conception, road, roads, sorrow, sorrows, violence

Poem Submitted: Friday, March 6, 2020

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