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Moksha
Poems
Oct 2016
The moth.
Upon the earth from which you had once sprung,
I now see you, dying in its arms, fluttering
Against the grasp of the soil's embrace
Struggling against its freshly fallen leaves.
You are but a light, taking in
The last moments of air, the last
Feeling, of the way the earth rotates
Around your soft feelers.
Written by
Moksha
28/F
(28/F)
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