The world's a putrescent sight.

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Putrescent and depressing

I open up my eyes in the morning that doesn't feel like morning anymore.

The World's full of decay and furore.

There's always a tint of depression I carry, why I carry is still not known.

I now reminisce over the golden days I enjoyed earlier, why not now, I really can't show. 

There are ups and downs, troughs and crests, I wear a personality all distressed.

Pulling me down, down and down, Into an ocean lacking perception and sound.

I am a human being, fettered with the chains of emotion. I overthink, to forget the life of devotion.

 

I am determined on breaking the monotony, the malediction cast upon me, 

I am determined on searching for the right personality, but I am unfortunately unable to find any.

The world has turned into a sight, devoid of colour. I want to carry my accoutrements, and soon disappear.

I took birth to change the corrupt sight, the doers are no one but my own type !How do I run away, like a castaway?

I am trying to still forego, and instead choose happiness, neglecting the very ego.

We all are creatures, creatively created, who gave us the right to destruct our own shelter site?

We are nowhere but close to the doom day, we are waiting, until this world becomes an even denser putrescent sight!

 

 

Poetry
India