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The sprinkled moondust
hovering above the wisps of clouds,
veil the puzzle pieces
as they linger
in the pools of wisdom
left behind by the sages,
where the thinkers have bathed
and left their sorrows,
to come out immaculate;
leaving a legacy
for the new intellectuals to put together.
Comment if you liked any specific parts of my poem. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
If death is my final chemical reaction,
In the experiment called LIFE.

Slitting wrists,
Hanging on the fan,
Drinking poison

and All......

Aren't all just the Catalysts?
If you woke up one day and I'm not beside you; stay strong and accept the fact that I'm gone. That's how cruel life is.

— The End —