Dystopia
Ever wondered as to why we maintain so many faces, As if in contingency to the day’s innumerable phases, The only thing we are saved, is from physically changing the mask, But that does not make it any simpler a
Midnight Sun
Gathering the last bit of energy, I reached the bus-stop, Whatever else did, the fatigue never did stop, Broken in the body, slowly breaking in the mind, I wonder why I put up with this daily grind. The cars, the