You think the sun is dying.
I am going deep in the ocean.
Eventually the moon ambushes Venus.
It was a grim situation.
The crooked fingers of an old man start
writing an epic. God will not take rebirth.
Where the love will go?
It was enough. In the crowd, I am not going
to raise my hand, to die first.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 14th, 2021 00:40
- Category: Nature
- Views: 25
Offline)
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