A Dead Soul
I live on the other side of your revenges
I touch your words, learn slangs
And get frozen inside
Those artful revenges
Those skillfully uttered darker words
That neither gives purity nor spiritual depth
That each religion teaches us.
I know, in return you will slap my conceptual core
With one, and then another and then another;
Wiping each goodness left inside
With your humble eloquence
Of a dead soul.
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