Spirit duct


Confronting legions afresh,
Smoldered on a rusty lane,
Of shadows thumping numb,
Alive in despair,
Wretched more forgotten,
The eyes none shame…

Underneath mellow sanctions,
Fruits clad in harmonious pleasure,
Drapes the seed,
A wondrous wondrous flame,
Awakened sleep,
Ruptures a joy…

Smartest of men still saying,
False hopes of belief,
Everyday a wrecked tale,
Perhaps the price for such a fame!

Trolling homewards still,
Darkened by carnal desires,
Is me or the orb that I blame?
Countless flaws, empty worships,
Sky rocketed yearnings,
And flattered hearts,
The soil’s at bask.

O sun, the brightest of wanderers,
Seep through the mist,
I seek a fresh moment of destruction,
Shells swell shaped sheds,
Crescent callous cries
Lo my brother’s dainty!

Laugh a merry fail,
Lest the eyes wash,
A random tale of infancy!



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