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C Biluk Feb 2021
She, was an invaluable treasure in my heart
I, was a calculated risk she would not take
Appended streams exhume the dreams that surface in conscious guide,
As photon beams augment the seams transmitters must abide.
The quantum strings of knotted ties,
Entangling's of worlds collide,
A vortex of spiraled rings,
In scattered sets convergent glide,
The convex spacial vacuuming's, synaptic points electrified,
A hex, insatiable, stochastically adjoins frequencies over-amplified, as complex oracle valuations weight choices to decide.
Mystic Ink Plus May 2018
My concern to
The Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS)
Whenever it publishes
Updated data of
The Martyrs of love

What count it be?

The utmost concern is,
The sensitivity and specificity
If they will include,
Me and you, or not.

Last plea to CBS,
Let it reveal
The total counts of,
The serial killers of trust,
With classified gender

So that,
There will be less sufferers
Then after.
Genre: Love
Theme: Just a thought
The I'm sorry
The it's ok
The silent battle
A dummy
For anyone
Just humans made to experiment
To cut, chop, and burn
We live just to die
Of a battle that is silent
To become a statistics
The silent battle that kills
Yet few people know
I'm already dead
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