Common Grief

Far into the city nights:
Shrill crickets and howling heights,
A lone bulb cries its birth
Fearful of power cuts and load-shedding

The aches spires a flickering beam;
The meaning that abor its well-being
Drips down the corner of squint eyes
and pierce pregnant thoughts

In semantics of common grief
All friends seems similar of fate;
Those that savour trans-linguistically,
Come to see the fuse and the hanging filament

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