Amidst of busy life, there exists perilous silence of despair,
dormant in action but eloquent in confusion.
Rage of rising incompleteness in life takes over every thought of bliss
leaving behind a muddle.
Dejected is my quest for happiness,
as every thought dissolves in this silence leaving behind the translucence of cleaving void in life.
The triumph of despondence echoes in looming frustration louder than ever.
How do i quench my quiescent ire in hush?
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