Since silence spoke, no one has found words to brush off the dust
To betray their own’s touch to the lives they have hardly felt
Scared for the lives, they have found their own ends reveled.
In fine fumes, have spoken the world its fury
Trying to dislodge temper from tears to run truly
Succumbing once when the future held hostage at its fore.
Furlong away in the rude yelps have turned the ghosts silent
In their times of heaves pushing trouble to its reefs
The cold culprit has disowned many and any
To slip into a reverie, the ratted have rolled many rules
Having roted whims of the collage that seems to be uprooting
Have the colors truly sickened seams off the tresses
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