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by Satish Verma Aug 24, 2022 category : Nature, environment / nature
Unnaming pro-lifers, I was ready to imitate the song of the ruins. Rising like a phonex from the spermaceti of flames, a unisexual rage, engulfs the smoke of burning homes. I am painting you black, O white god, your devotees were coming in the nude. Bend down angel; the eclectic door was small and the beautiful windows were closed. No need to wait for a lost moon. The godchild had been laid to rest in scythe bed. Come when you are going to faint in the arms of poems. I will stay for eternity.