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kushal jindal Aug 2015
Small is what you call the world,
so is it's memory.
Big if you want to hear,
learn to mark your territory.

You're being watched,
as days are made but nights occur,
So choose the darkest light,
the sun being your ******.

Shoot the stars,
Shoot the moon,
as they shoot down gravity.
You'll want breath,
you'll need air,
you being your destiny.
kushal jindal Aug 2015
War
Empty homes, barren streets.
Empty thoughts, barren minds.

Fallen metal, leather beats,
Falling metal, pierced sheets.

****** hands, wet cheeks.
Airy walls, cement heaps.

Masked faces, naked hearts.
One eyed vision, fatal arc.

Decorated bodies, decorated lives.
Travelers ? Protectors?

Sadly,
Murderers.

— The End —