The hunted

What more can I say ?
Where else can I go ?
What I find I cannot let go ,
Then one day I will
It’s natural of my character,
The great spill,
The turn of the world
The destroyed flutter.
Life is poor
The live poorer still
Until the kill .



Poetry by vidura rambachan
Read 145 times
Written on 2023-03-26 at 17:40

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