A wailing....
For her, the quietly withdrawn,
Is there no space in this vast ,vast,
Immeasurable , mysterious land of
Colourful crayons, cults, and cannibalistic
Beings of untold , repeatedly arguing guts?
Is there no tiny speck of corner
In this land sliding soil of decadence
And irredeemable principles going awry?
Is it perhaps, her wilful ,salient , choice?
She is happier in a different domain,
Yet, we feel the loss, the awful separation,
The uncanny way of bidding good bye;
From a far better realm, she waves a
Flag of supple acquaintance,
Is there no space in this vast, vast
Panoramic sweep of surge and upsurge?
For her? Her?
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