Death.

Death. short poem

… And then one day she picked a knife

Slashed her palm stuck in destiny and strife

A grin like flash of peace in pain

Yahweh, don’t bring me to life again!

When end becomes a new dawn

And nothing exists to go on

Her thoughts shall linger in the air

Beyond everything, every time, everywhere!

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Chandrama Deshmukh

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When poetry touches the soul, everything starts making sense. The inner world seems real and the outer one becomes bearable. When thoughts mixed with words travel through the empty spaces of mind, poetry happens to me. It always has been a mysterious force guiding me through. With two published books and one amaturish blog, I consider myself blessed to have started this journey. An old diary with think brown cover and an over used, end bitten pen. That’s where real magic begins! May you find your undiscovered meanings in my poems. May existence make sense. Even if just for a little while.
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