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Mar 2021
Prickly love, I have
come to bleed. A size of moon
was always shadowing the charisma.

When the crooked fingers
look like question marks, the criminality
of darkness would not speak.

Right on the track of
truth, I was always blinded by
the brightness of the lies of saints.
Written by
Satsih Verma
105
     --- and Hakikur Rahman
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