The present state of the affairs around,
Reminds us of something unusual,
Leaves for us no ground,
From the clutches, which is cruel.
Is it the heaven's breaking loose,
Or is it the death in disguise,
Or is it the mother nature's abuse,
Why is there fear in every eyes?
Regardless of the precaution,
It is marching forward in force,
Is it the evil's repercussion?
Or is it the death's due course?
Author Prityarth
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