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Wednesday, 18 March 2015

Invincible ...

We are like old photographs
Memoirs of pigments
That bleed deep within the veins
Of crushed pages
Bred in rooms of red and black
Tossed away
Or held close to chest pockets
We have survived thunders
Breathed through piercing eyes
And laughed through warm embraces
We are the permanence running underneath
Solid grounds
The green under droughts
Seeds of time growing out of scorching rays
And blending into mute thoughts

We are invincible. 

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