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Writer's pictureParam Nayar

The Price We Pay

The once-bustling streets,

now clad with a blanket of hushed silence

the world bowed down

to an illness with a lust for violence


Manners or a shack

all cages have been rattled

transiting into the shadowy black

an unexpected burden saddled


Yet in these times hard

while to our homes we are bound

there still exists

beauty to be found


Risking their own lives

our heroes in white coats

brick by brick they build

the bridges across the moats


Is it just me

or is it not all bad we see

aren't the skies more blue?

don't the birds sing free?


In this sea of uncertainty

hope still finds its way

a clear stream in the desert

that doesn't run astray


The rivers now flow unhindered

blossom now the seeds long sown

and the fauna now returns

to our jungles of stone


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