All The Flowers Are Dead


 The plant that I have sown in my heart is dead, 

All the flowers are dead. 

They are dead because I gave another place,

The displaced wooden rose interfered into their weary hut.

They are all dead. 

The corpses scream for mortgage. 

They scream for an autopsy. 

They want me to know their cause of death. 

All the flowers are dead now, 

So, is the plant sown in my heart.

It is dead and dehydrated in absence of unconditional love that's faithful and desire that would burn the old views.

In the missing report, it was written-

Emptiness replaced excitement! 

Aloofness replaced horror of communications!


©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timestamp: 1.30 pm, Tagar 


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