The hurt begins to move
and meets in a funeral procession.
For aging fireworks this was the last chance,
but lake had dried up.
There was no fall tonight of the moon
All the stars had gone for a memorial service.
The candle light vigil begins with a sole survivor.
The genotypes will multiply.
The legend had the last breath
and then walked away in a big whole.
I were you, to take the revenge
from the sobbing me who sent the body
without a soul.
Satish Verma