Death Fragrance!

It’s hard to follow the whims insane
It’s hard to understand the rhetoric lies
But the fragrance of livelihood,
And the certain evidence on inhibition;
They all come in hordes
While I am dying!

Like a routine,
I return to my four-walled rented room
Anytime I wanted to return home;
Certain fragrance draws me there
And I wish to call it my home.

Like a die hard habit,
I breathe my soul, in and out
Every time I wanted to feel alive;
The exhilarating gasp in the mouth
And I wonder about this life.

Not to be taken seriously,
I was not happy doing the rounds, of a life
Breathing, eating, sleeping
All I wanted was to smell the life, and
Lost in its fragrance.