Falling Debris

Purity of thoughts, 
must limit the knowledge― 

collective withdrawl from 
the valley of words. 

Each life you had changed 
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires. 

Hanged from the roof 
to understand the pangs of poverty. 

The unborn century will wait 
for the collapse of identity. 

Man has gone too far carrying 
the burden of acoustics.