better untitled than my usual longrunning taletelling ones, as young and innocent purehearts get crushed by the soulless ‘you’


morning beauty datura’s
milkwhite gramophone smiles
seemed today
astounded to comatose
mutedness as if they

desperately prayed
for irreversible deaths
from chemburn breaths, with
their dreamt
faroff calmer universes
in those glazing stillgazingeyes

deafening decibels and choking smoke

were no chimes to their fading

thinned swannecks
suffocating in morbid

-that pleaded to self-plucked
heroic submissions like swadeshi
Bhagaths in pronounced sentences by you
the conquerers with ‘divide and rule’ alienating
mindsets of the plundering missions

meanwhile, the artistic sandy ashbirds
that ever straight-dived into merriment
airs with lightning elegance

forever deep-plunges
into nowhere of the
elsewhere worlds

and children played around unknown
of the lavishing toxicities

with difficult laughters of the kind
that echoed a lost paradise’s
paralysed crops of the last kind

#pic: web, michal mozolewski art


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