A grain of sand in life is a straw of dry leaves in war.There is no atonement for curses, no final burial for tears. A rotten throat near death is like a corpse without an heir. As the water in Karbala wails empty.Death plays as if touchless-abstract. I want to cure it, from you.I know you can't.Your palace is not next to my grave. You built a palace in blind faith.Your story is like Bloody Mary. Even if you want to, you cannot separate from the witch world.
©xavier11
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