I stand in middle
of water and juxta pose the days.
Words come and go. Havens beefed.
Who bargained the faux pas?
Don't dismantle my dream world. I have
reached the edge of dying child of god.
No complaints. It is raining.
Blood is buried in the greens. I
don't doubt the integrity of the failure.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: February 17th, 2024 20:08
- Category: Nature
- Views: 2
Offline)
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