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Ashutosh Thakur

Abstract Tragedy

4.3  

Ashutosh Thakur

Abstract Tragedy

Ink in a Harpoon

Ink in a Harpoon

1 min
342


Did we not see?

Our principles murdered, on the last street

Stabbed by our pride, not once, a thousand times, each one of them


Did we not taste?

The sour of doom, waiting to be swallowed,

Wanting to collude with our destiny, to singularity


Did we not feel?

Our sanity rubbing the craze, or was it hysteria?

Flapping wings of wisdom floating us down


Did we not sense?

The ominous odour of dogma, razing us

And our saviours in shackles, in chapels


Did we not hear?

The whispers of abyss, calling out

To all of us, brothers and sisters holding hands

Descending into nothingness.


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