The devil lurking in the gray nights,
shadows of fear creeping in with disguise,
drooling vicious lips,
popping crimson eyes,
hollow sphere,
silence is eerie,

And in the mind caught in such demonism,
the soul holding on
to a hope of survival with meek eyes,
Will he survive?
Depends,
whether his heart can withstand
the wind longer than his frail trust

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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