A red rose remains
red. Why are you not talking?
I had rushed over to inferno.
It was a frantic rise
of the mummified thoughts. I love to
die for the unraveling.
The tragedy of living
splits the hairs. I won;t be stopped.
I will not be intimidated.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: April 9th, 2021 19:46
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
Offline)
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