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Nov 2012
Tears of blood, predicting a flood;
Worn out soul, screeching in mud.

Splendid mornings turn out to rust;
Where shedding tears is considered must.

Sparkling eyes chasing crystals in the sky;
Thou each gaze pulls me strongly, making a way to die.

Strings of emotion tuned to deviate and devastate;
Crumbled heart seeking the happiness over-delayed.

The beauty of my soul vanishes away;
Thou enchant a spell to stand out in the breaking day.

Abhorring the wounds, all over the heart;
Surrendering to the agony, caused by the poisoned dart.

Thou snatched my life, scorned the blissful smile;
Blessing with the everlasting pain, in thee own style.

World around me perishes as thee left me forlorn;
Sweet smells bitter, flowers turn into painful thorns.

Invisible thee, but apparent to me;
Seeking thou in Eden, finding the glee.
Vrinda Vishwanath
Written by
Vrinda Vishwanath
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