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Satsih Verma
Poems
Sep 13
The Lingering Death
Time to make a sin.
The blood will not go back. Any
voice will become very dark.
The earth was an earth.
When my heart cries and the stones
make a beautiful temple.
My hands do not move
to catch the truth. The moon will
say, once the sun was my son.
#life
Written by
Satsih Verma
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