Flakes fly around— of old wishes,
Unfulfilled and still far from dead,
Borne by age-old rickety bed,
Burdens of old dreams still anguish.
In teeming tamas, a lone head,
Old wishes free from a long leash,
Long-bottled perfume un-faded,
Its scent ye dare not distinguish.
Yet, persisting no less to please,
But squeezed, spreading its olden dread,
Much chewed story of mankind ‘tis,
Covered with dust...
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