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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Coma


The purple shadow
Did cast its spell
On the unending
Desires of a forlorn heart

The strands twisted
Turned, struggled
For freedom ....

Freedom
.
.
.
Which was yet to come
And force
The desires to bow
In front

Ask....
The premonition of life
The prehensile life
To sway...
Succumb to the truth
.
.
.
Of Coma

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