This is our home,the real home,the home of end time.

The home where the sonority of bird voices remains unheard

The home where lifeless leafs makes more sound than voices.

The home where silence becomes a preacher.

The home where lifeless bodies are engraved for protection but found rot and decay.

The home which is the last quarter to Squat before the heaven call.

The home where nobody want to build a home,
But got a home by nature.

The home where Mr or maybe Mrs Death has been granted the opportunity,
To mount the podium of irreversibility.

Death is now making it speech in a grandiloquent order, which existing creature cannot decode.
Failure to decode is coming "HOME"

Then DEATH comes in to take the lead home.


®August,2020.
© Jibadels Nayer
iamadesegunoyenaya.