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Apr 26
You suffer, nothing
comes to your mind. Like you are fondling
your wounds lying in a tomb.

I will not steal your
face after the disaster of losing faith
in the religion of power.

I will not stop kissing
the red flames of bargain. The tears
will decide, no mausoleum will be made.
Written by
Satsih Verma
  174
   mister truth and Jeremy Betts
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