Posted by: SITARA May 20, 2005
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Deepji,
The peace sold years ago,
I bought, with my very soul.
T'was a barter surely from hell,
for, angels drank your tears,
while devils dried my well.
Why? you ask...
does the arrow pierce,
one and not the other;
As stains from the past,
sprinkle every word,
the answer lies restless
while mute lies the sword.