Untouched Grass | Poem

If there’s silence,

Then,

There’s unstoppable screams.

Right now,

I can hear deaths of souls,

There’s decades of untouched grass.

Remember, Deathra,

When the night comes,

Shobo sleeps in coldest fire.

©Suraj Jangid

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Dark Humor Author | Poet | Creative Fountain | Borderline Personality | Proofreader | Content Writer | Automobile Lover | Found me at surajjangid.sam@gmail.com.

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