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It trickled down the railings, with the smell of junk, amidst the dead brown iron, were hints of green life. Thirst, emptiness, infinity, still a lot to do, a lot to walk, over the stale wood and the broken glass. Many things are lost, life, passions and possessions. In between lips and wrinkles, seems to be a story, struggles, unsuccessful days, few dreams, a love song, some papers, a prayer and now the last drops of the rain.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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Date: 9/29/2013 3:01:00 PM
Visitn ps after so many days checkd out your wrks first Lovely words sir :-)
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Patnaik Avatar
Bidhu Patnaik
Date: 9/30/2013 1:19:00 AM
Thank you Shiraz..Good to see you back..