End Of This Autumn

End Of This Autumn short poem


At the END OF THIS AUTUMN, I am standing
Under a barren tree, bleak and exposed
TO weather with shedding leaves,
There rests a house away from the barn,
Decorated with vivid colours of rainbow
And maintained by careful hearts
Now lay without its cheerful dwellers
Who are now hopefully incarnated in another form?

At the END OF THIS AUTUMN, I see this curious and cute Cur
smelling innocently the gun which lay on the sand
After the inhuman act taking the lives of the cheerful Dwellers and cur’s owners,
few moments ago there was A grand preparation for the Durga Pujas to come,
but in A matter of minutes everything was over
when the Harsh sound of the firing gun was heard twice
and down Laid the couples on the ground,
their blood mixed with Indian Dirt.

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