I wish,
I could tell you
of that moment
When from
my poison of life
You became
my balm of death.
But then,
When have lost poets
given out their dark
Where all their
fire and tears reside
And become
their songs instead.
© Arindam Dey
I wish,
I could tell you
of that moment
When from
my poison of life
You became
my balm of death.
But then,
When have lost poets
given out their dark
Where all their
fire and tears reside
And become
their songs instead.
© Arindam Dey
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