I saw a corpse,
Lying unattended on an opulent street,
Carcass only, but no soul.
Someone was dead, but there was no uproar!
I inquired around, I got no clue.
The people had no time to lose.
Then, a moment here and there,
And, the picture began to emerge clearer.
Chirping birds and blooming flowers of spring,
No longer made people delighted or thrilled.
Festivals had merely become days of inaction,
Not fit for rejuvenation or revitalization.
Passion was now just a word,
And diffidence everyone's consort.
Ethereal desires and sinister reality
had mercilessly killed creativity.
And, there was no screaming, no funeral for her
Not even an acknowledgment of her death.
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