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Of hindsight, a man is just confused
hungry and thirsty.
Suffocates and yet feels relaxed
at another time.
Lips murmur a secret prayer
as eyes observe,
and eat up beauty around.
Awful experience wanders inside
with witches gory.
I wonder what I do
in the abode of God
crying for identity.
Muttering hymns in delight
of fervent fable
I cry why I close eyes.
Next: Of this Stage
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