hazed mind,
a box of tinted images
blood begets blood.
sweet taste of wrath
frettered wings,
try real hard
just as it gets near,
it seems so far
moist buds,
detest its cold,
seiges its beauty
belittles its presence
and the morning dream
deems its reality
the hope of a beginning,
crashes its existence
little drops,
on a doped mind,
certain answers they sayy
ou never find!
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