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Nov 2019
In lost island,
water and boat, I
will never know you.

A volley of stings.
I bleed inside, without
single drop falling out.

There will be no
tiara, to put on the head
of pain.

Play on flute,
before the sunset. I
want to invite fireflies.

The numbers don't
agree. War continues for
the red sea of tears.

You won't reach
your abode alive.
Written by
Satsih Verma
73
 
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