Dolour rued over the schizophrenia.
Spilled lies now buried in secrets.
You don’t have an exit root , anxiety guffawed.
Existence of truth never been existed.

Damped with the sight of shadows.
Benignant smile of death kissed the grey blood.
Stony desolation of the street is loud.
Calluses are enough to speak with no words.
The time it ends , it starts, confined in ellipse.



I write what i see, and feel what i breathe. Poetics, Realism is what i bathe in. Hope do i not that you see my words than just read?

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