The Time I Go Through O, God! I have became as hard as wood, Because did not get anything that I could. The whole world is being unknown, Because every heart is being a stone. No one asks me, If I am worst or well, No one cares if I am facing hell. As the passerby going through the woods, Wounds hurt him as he is bare foot, The same I m feeling my solitude. O, God! Come and extract me from this pain, The cause, I can’t go more on this lane, On this lane, one this lane! Anikant Raaz Mandal
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