The tickling watches, the shaking legs,
Minds full with silent cries and begs
Hearts are homes
Where the oil is ceaseless impatience,
And neighbours – the anxious ancestors.
The dreams, the love, the perfection,
All blur.
The waiting, waiting and waiting,
In this bewildering times they all were!
It’s a road not unique,
It’s a road they all walk,
The roads with the same lock.
In the...
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