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The Beauty

The beauty, more covetable than the charm of breasts Of a pretty woman, hidden somewhere in this world Or in the dreams of a poet, yet to come; In search of that beauty and Its pleasure, still I walk Throughout this life where tyranny is the only pride Of the rulers; still I digging my own body Until and unless I find the center of the bones And I've touched the nothingness-points of Roses and all the flowers that smiling with deception And on the peak of so called achievement hills

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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