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I have nothing to say or write more  except the goals of souls
Derailed from the tracks of  humanitarian accords
Monitored by the materialistic bodies of earth
In the dockyards of  money flow.

Pictures of  morrows carved in the hearts of  richness
Coming to surface with enveloped mottos
Verifying the supremacy of  God’s existence
In the purified papers of  pretended Gods and Goddesses

Oceans of  order searching cavities of  mountains and valleys
Troubling  the beauty of unknown world of  known myths.
With or without colours of  monuments , drawn contents
Linking to many devils ruling world of  money matters.

Let me have a heart in the middle of my remained culture
Opened to the world of  unknown agonies
Sorrows of morrows paying rewards to the merchants
Of Venice, no drops of  blood from Indian Souls.
Seeds of bottom make fruits of top and fruits of top make seeds of  bottom.  Bottom to go up and top to come down. Ring out the Old Bad and Ring in the new Good.

I have nothing to write more © 3 years ago, Madhu Pattiath Ambalapuram


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