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Writer's pictureFarooq

Mayhem

Riddle upon riddle, this labyrint of joy and sadness, the walking dead, empty souls, searching endlessly, another matrix of endlessness. Not a child in sight, no innocence, like wild beasts they wonder endlessly. I stroll through these alleyways, knocking doors, peeping through dark window. I wish to offer some light, my heart sinks deeper, I continue to float, moments of refuge as I feel the breeze on my face, there's hope but I'm too caught in my emotions, seeking but to find very little solace

I run away...


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