SUICIDE / SELFISH / SILENCE
Like a pimple you cannot hide,
my love had become an irritation to you.
You, granting licences to all and sundry,
while drawing boundaries for me.
You, dung-heads think a falling star can grant you wishes.
You, who called me life.
You, thought this love was all prayers and no efforts?
Now, selfishness is a virtue and heartlessness a blessing.
The love I held for you,
went up the Hill of Silence and jumped off.
It died and along with it, you died.
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