waiting all night on

There is a sad precedence to love,

there seems to come nothing solemn,

everything is a dream like everything else,

no room for visuals and views,

but pennies for the love’s scent,

half upturned and half unturned,

nothing is dashing like hours,

trickling into a pile of waste,

she coos a blasphemy and the,

God next-door overturns all but amen,

Privileged beggar sings for alms,

blessings in disguise court love and honour,

there is parade for love’ sake,

and the artist bent pigeonholes,

there is in the end supremacy of night,

as there came light to end and life  began,

when the day turned. Silence for equinox,

and the ways of men.Women as kneading,

the dough for handsome dog to attend.

 

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