Hark! ‘tis the poor world with ugly stories
Of people who were murder’d with no love;
Alas! every heart’s fill’d with the worries
From the veins to the mind that we’d live;
Many pains of people hath risen as screams
And dissolv’d as thick, noisy, polluted air
The ignored people long’d for lucid dreams,
But, they imprison’d in some demons’ lair.
Traumatic experience of a soul doth scars
To heal up the psyche for surviving hither;
The terrible world’s bleeding by the wars
For racism, casteism, and religions thither.
O, it doth sound the laments of humanity,
Make thy deaf ears to heed till eternity.