Wicked Soul

The most vicious mind never knows,
Heat of the sun doesn’t snub,
Nor the rain denies to touch,
Air is not odious with nostrils,
Even the earth never slips away,
So,
It’s not the skin I should change,
It’s not the religion I should change,
It’s not the Cast I should change,
It’s you who should change the soul,
In you creating chaos inside your head,
It’s you who should change your eyes,
Or your perception that overlooks,
Me over my skin or my religion or my cast,
It’s you who should change your belief,
That every child born is not a felon,
But it is a brisance of your hatred,
Sown inside head of every other you met,
To grow up the chains and the boundaries,
That crucifies every kindness and every sweetness nature have nurtured,
I know there is enough sympathy for dead in this world,
You bewail for them but hurt every living kind of them,
It’s you biased from the nature,
By power, money and gluttony,
In the most callous way, try to split even the forms of you,
Boring the holes of detestation,
And Soaring disgrace to mankind,
Leaving love, elegance and glee
Out of your soul making it corrupt and lame.

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