Behind These Neat Mask of Mine | Poetry

Behind these neat Mask of mine, It’s a mess of a Different kind. Veins and miles Of veins all over, Carrying bloods Of all kind. Where does it reach I wonder, That begins at the center And prolongs all over. Behind these neat Mask of mine, It’s a mess of a Different kind. Should I…

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The Encounters

Who on earth gave the idea that we must steal hearts, and that it was the ultimate goal there is? Why not steal the mind, the eye, the soul? How can life be understood through just one unexplained being all consuming? Mustn’t we have friends with whom we can converse under the rainbow about how…

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