Sporadic Spasm in my muscles,
The poison does not disintegrate.
The arrows in my bivouacing sky,
still lingers in my grimy eyes.
Ah! My gallant derides sans sanity,
I raged in the skeptic night,
Non-convalescent and acrimonious.
I incercerated in the shambles of the shams.
I lay there solitary like lifeless leaf,
Escaping raining arrows.
And blows of the silvery
Shimmering in my eyes.
Rose up against all my effigies,
scattering All the inundated love
with the surge of all the adrenaline.
Those bygone interludes in the my vitreous,
trudging and Perspiring…
Until the dagger pierced my heart… .
the hands drenched
in my warm and crimson blood
Were the hands that I used to hold.
They forgot the fate is same for all.
Those masquerading cellophane faces,
They clench the same sand of time,
slipping, however they it hold tight.
I dropped high in the cardinal oblivion.
Resplendently marched to the new beginning
Where the soulful winds
That blows life
Smelling the fragrance of my harvest
From The flowers that ‘ll bloom
On The day when the trumpet will be blown.
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