Author : SHWETHA T
Company : Phykon Solutions
Email : firstname.lastname@example.org
Thrusting woes of existence,
Fuming smell of death.
Vivid fate, void hearts.
For this bloodshed wipes out every speck.
Never does it add up,
Neither substitute, nor quench;
But oozes out; gulps in.
And terminates the very being
Queries end and reasons vanish,
For death is the summit of survival.
Leaving back a few footsteps,
With memories thrown upon.
The expected wonder,
With funeral shrouds the robes
And emotions to an utter still.
Let the terminator grabs me soon,
For life so long is painful.
The longer it is, fonder it becomes;
Fonder it be, tougher to go off.