Dust and dirt gulp the health,
Honks and fumes consume the peace,
Unbalanced jarring noises disharmonise:
The pace, the rhythm and the very beat!
Even without a solid reason to pinpoint,
Restlessly fuming on and of everything,
Sometimes on the very being itself.
And the tumult of frustrations prolongs,
Know not its end,
It's on and on though;
Layer on layer sheds revealing:
Nothingness as the secret.
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