Voilenlt flowers.

When the flowers become violent

and the sun cries,

Season stays stagnant

and the reason dies.

The whispering breeze roars

the blue seas burn

Justice acts bore

nature looks stern.

Leaves start mourning

the sky steals

the day is shaking

and the compassion flees.

The mountains are mad

and soil boils,

moon breaks and disbands

and old men toils.

Pen cuts like a sword

and the book divides,

law freezes cold

honesty hides.

Is it a dream

or a real night mare,

unable to scream

no one to share.

By:-

Rahbar.