I was abed rolling bilaterally,
the blazing globe if gulped
by the oceanic waves would've
soothed the soul of burning womb.

The sword is at my scruff and
my roots wriggled out of mud.
I'm not a mangrove with pneumatophores,
yet fight like a brave soldier
untill my last breath.

They piled up sky scrapers
over my chest; break the ribs
and make me apneic.
As the distressed farmers are often welcomed by the suffocating
knots of 'Eternal rest' and
the well-off tycoons prospered with enormous edifice that kiss the
celestial stars.

Though he's unaware of the
'unknown descendants and his weeping Matriarch; there exists
the same cradle that brought him up
and the antique crutch to strengthen his senescence.
The seraphic smile that held me tight in swiftly tides and fiery nights taught
me to...