Those big days of Godly Love

Those big days burn in memory

raising the life strata suddenly to

many many more days and nights

through journey with clump of paste

loosely smeared upon the crystal ball

Those days were nice to image pull down

of Zico’s hundredth goal  and light falling

into the enormous hole from where had emerged

silence itself. The Satan was aware there lives the God

among the groove of the trees from where reflects

the whole of light never ceasing to be itself but a hologram

of the now defunct kingdom!

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