Falling Rubble

Numerical death 
walks quietly in the ruins 
of hubris and pride. 

The neostrength of 
the grass, goes for some aberration. 
Wind stops at the gate of unknown. 

It was not your fault. 
We all were responsible 
for the fall of grace. 

The calculus of the rubble, 
would not tell about― 
the last words of fallen hero. 

It imperils my belief, 
when you wear a brace to― 
tell the truth in dark.




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