You speak louder
in dark, unhinged, unchained
to become perfect.
I will not change
myself. Let the river flow.
I will have no banks.
The smoke rises
from the windows of ruined dreams.
Your footprints become relic.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: September 12th, 2024 20:24
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
Offline)
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