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The Sentence

It bled, bled and bled
Profusely.
But no wound was visible.

It cried, cried and cried
Badly.
But no shriek was audible.

It rolled, tossed and crumpled
Hopelessly.
But no movement was discernible.

It felt throttled and choked
But kept quiet.
It moved yet.

The pangs were wrapped
In the cloak of composure
Because it knew
It would live now
With scars,
An ordeal,
Invisible
Inaudible
Indiscernible.

The Unconquerable
Had pronounced
The sentence.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 3/7/2015 8:10:00 AM
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this poem. Good flow.
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Kaur Avatar
Harpreet Kaur
Date: 3/14/2015 9:40:00 AM
Thanks Valerie.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things