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Sep 2012
When Light spreads her fingers
Darkness dares not linger,
there's treason within their collision.
Ink black can't mold bread
while the sun bares her head,
but both cloud each others vision.
So neither can figure
what causes the trigger,
there's little room left for precision.
They both wait and pray
that the other's delayed
'cause neither can make a decision.
This was a one stroke poem written in a soju bar that I recently stumbled across again.
Written by
SWB
  1.0k
   vs, victoria, Ishita Bhatia, --- and Odi
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