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by Satish Verma Sep 15, 2022 category : Nature, environment / nature
Weird, your hidden contours, as true to yourself, from unseen to seen. Like a phoenix, you are supposed to write your own epitaph, before jumping on a funeral pyre. The bald eagles like simple truth, give you pain and hurts. I write a poem for you? then delete it. A transitional encounter. One of us was lying. There was no eye of the moon. In search of the silver bullets to kill the werewolves of our life.