MUTE OR DEAD

Sheds or whispers again and again,

Below the line of pain,

Every drop is in vain,

Worth of a penni is insane,

I hear herds crying in my space,

But there is mirror image,

Everything there is real and rare,

My place is frozen,

But, here the ice walks, talks, and play,

Here the cold heart beats,

When will there be shade of rays on my cape,

It feels like iam dead,

But my soul is stuck frozen in this place,

You can have a show of frozen doll,

She laughs, but is mute,

Don't ask how she is,

That's the passcode for her to speak,

Let her be the best dancing doll,

Let her fake,

Let her be with her perfect moves,

She practices late night to pretend next day,

Let's not  let it be in vain,

Let's clap for everything she plays,

She is the clara,

Waiting for the bhrams,

So she can perform to defroze her self

And let her soul be dead...