Scourged Spirits

1 Min Read

Tishma Rhine Joarder

The world that nursed you is no more,

Drowned in arid ashes of ambition has gone astray.

Helpless, I envision the drab eyes and hushed cries,

Resonating desolation and destructive despair.

In our venomous veins,

Thrives the lives of remorseless beasts and brutes.

Ready to obliterate,

Every faint trace of ambition.

Their swords have chiselled my calls for clemency,

As a connotation of the vulnerability of my soul.

The scant flicker of liberality is preposterous,

For it has ceased to exist with the advent of automation.

An inevitable demise of humanity foreshadows,

As every frail fragment of my body is weaved in woe and anguish.

The scourged spirits have rose.

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