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#*To this body Death does as it should, Consigns the shell To the firewood And sets the spirit free.* Close to the fire the heat singes me. I know it's only the prelude to the fiery furnace licking my skin with flaming tongues reducing me to powdered ashes disappearing and in no time fading what was me but in an instant dusts in urns and upon wall and years after maybe one's untimely rains of dusty memories.
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
Writing on the Wall
#*To this body Death does as it should, Consigns the shell To the firewood And sets the spirit free.* Close to the fire the heat singes me. I know it's only the prelude to the fiery furnace licking my skin with flaming tongues reducing me to powdered ashes disappearing and in no time fading what was me but in an instant dusts in urns and upon wall and years after maybe one's untimely rains of dusty memories.
Crematorium, Dec 16 2017 midnight.
pradip-chattopadhyay
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
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