There’s a call from the depths of the shadows of the trees. No, it’s but a whisper…no a whimper A finger pointing to the sky
Breathe, breathe…I wish I could breathe. The infant’s face crimped into morbid contortion by pending asphyxia Breathe, the breath Adam received The breath we all
Is it the dark tunnel through which the bullet Travels to draw blood and replace breath With the reek of death? Is it the bland
#FarhadAkale shot to death, gone too soon. till we meet again!
Home’s laughter and joy, where good thoughts mature; Home’s water for life, and without colour or odour; Home makes eyes water, but beneath blesses each