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With every beckoning move My power self destructed I stood among the audience With no outrageous opinions I performed as a harlequin Trying to dulcify my motives My torn pockets spilling sand The baptism of fire They said they were comrades But at that moment They enunciated My defeat Strenuously. I'm tired of seeing the wall break My cigarette stained hands yearn for demise
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Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
Exhaustion
With every beckoning move My power self destructed I stood among the audience With no outrageous opinions I performed as a harlequin Trying to dulcify my motives My torn pockets spilling sand The baptism of fire They said they were comrades But at that moment They enunciated My defeat Strenuously. I'm tired of seeing the wall break My cigarette stained hands yearn for demise
mahima-gupta-1
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Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
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