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Apr 23
Drop by drop his sanity runs dry,
And vanity urges to pry,
Alas,
When there is a hope for peace to find,
Man becomes a weapon unwavering of gods' sign
and his silent glare ,
He becomes a grave ,
A mount of flesh ,
With no soul to save ,
Written by
Maimoona Tahir  18/F
(18/F)   
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