Vicious Rhythm
The lump in my throat compelled me to believe.
that once there was a time of festiveness,
which has now turned into a vicious rhythm.
The unrealized desires are reduced to tears,
where the laughter of childhood turned into subdued smiles.
The severance of your own begetter,
aches just like dry spells in a well-plowed field.
One's good spirits become a cage of gloom for the other.
They thought they were emancipating, but who knew they were culminating in something that hadn't even commenced yet.
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