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I am the bitterest of men swallowing my own sourness,

when I expect to spit the bane it ebbs back in my throat,

whirls and gyrate until I nauseate in my depth but it doesn’t lead me to the end of misery nor to the prelude of survival,

in the midst of melancholy it chokes my breath,

my heavy pant begins jolting to the crescendos but doesn’t hang at the pavement where I could abide and empty my pouches that abhors my soul,

what you have brought here to unload or what you could brought out of distraught self.

The self is selfless because it’s lifelessWhen the air doesn’t go across or it cannot be sensed,

what zest I could manifest?

yes I am the senseless of all the beings and I don’t have pinch of shame in ridiculing myself since I am entitle to mocked by my own in the assault of not being bogged down to others but to entangle in my fetters.

I am not alike others even not identical to myself,

I don’t know where I dwells not even where I would proceed or where I was formerly and whether I came out of it Perhaps this ‘’I” shall elaborate, extend, heedless of occurring and manners of existing.

Estrangement and torment begins when we have to speak and the complexed “I’’ has to speak with wholesome consciousness of being which becomes mere when asked severely to give testimony in his favour, how much contemptible the vocal when utters in his favour in all the unfavourable, unavoidable ambience.

The unspoken words worth, what I have imagine is clutched, desperation of soul and deterioration of dreams both have stripped in a single curtain, the rawness possesses in a beam.

The acclaimed darkness am I your destined prey? The friend of others and the enemy of me, glaring affability of universe and it’s still visible, felling in the nerves shivering under the leafless tree, bare arms stretched before me.

Why I was thrown in the universe combating with sundial?

What agitation I had created in the curls of fairies, standing anywhere doesn’t give the sense of upright, when I go ahead the shadow pursuits me,

I endure the heaviness on my limbs, and that burden of dual entities doesn’t allow to run and run in the fleetness that wind carries my weight.

Corpse reverberates from dejection and it’s resonance is heard by pleasure, they are enlightened of each other feelings, rests on each other lap, they are one another couch and I becoming sanctioned on listening to their whispering, this has to happen with me sniffing the stink of my corpse perhaps no one else will nauseate but me.

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