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May 2020
Such a painful antic it is.
People reigned by sweltering
avarice. No inner satisfied.
Sabotaged by blemishes. Far
apart from the soul's voice.
Unaware, missing forest for
trees. Soul is not that binds.
Boundless you were, too.
Tenebrous restraining milieu!
As the twig is bent, so shall
the tree grow. Building
transient haciendas out
of pride. Ego concealing
the inner side. You, the
Architect of your destiny.
Yourself decide. Tap the
energy residing inside,
lest you should subside.
Chew over the living dream,
dwell on eternal life. Still
your presence. Listen to
silent cadence.The more
the voids increase, the
more the bliss you feel.
Written by
Noor Fatima  23/F/Pakistan
(23/F/Pakistan)   
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