Soul dressed in decrepit robe
Of flesh, all tattered, hanging, loose;
Spirits torn, identities denied,
Disowned progeny,
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Grotesque and picturesque.Very beautiful wordings.Noteworthy.
Those desolate souls living on the margins of community and disowned by everyone and searching for identity is a sad spectacle. Their silent screams are submerged in the clamorous sounds around! Their sad plight is poignantly brought out!
Your poems are studded with gem like words Yasmeen Soul scratched by mockery- Soul that is above any identity, Equally comes from divinity, Left suffering silently In the wilderness of hermophrodity, searching violently in the jungle of identity.