Shredded Glass
Straight elegant and graceful
Was the walk to fate
Without a winkle or smell
Of the dreaded death
Poised on each lurking venture
The dawning of a smirk
Dangled from the wandering eyes
Meandering to the silky slide
Of each earthly mould
Beholding the grinding beads
Drew beads of lusts
Dropping like lump of hails
Destined to crush the rising rush
Into desired pieces
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