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No More It Looks
This mind looks a wonder,
Lost and left on the bank of river-
That was flowing through a heart-
And no more got deserted to dust!
O’ Lord what it hosts long-
When life has owed to loving-
In a cold place of Universe early-
Without clothing-
to mark equally.
With those richest of summer-street,
She comes calm and as in prejudice-
Pleases with sweet gale as though moon,
Changes to heavy darkness and stun!
Where these foul games born?
Lead mountains and peaks of pain-
As love is fired in gun-battle,
With no bigotry-
Before wanders descends to fall.
poem
by
Deb Panda
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