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Dark Shadow

Cleaving to all its bustle and ado, What trails behind is one’s own dark shadow. O man, choke not with truth buried below, Its fingers point to your vainest ego. He’s no man that mutely accepts his fate Resigns to whatso fate, whatso morrow, A sheep in flock he’s no better to know, In cool ash of ignorance to wallow, A man is he defeated but by him— O fight thy pretender, beat him hollow. ______________________________________ Ghazal |04.11.2021|

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things