The Endgame

 

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I am shaking in the still water
among the perfect aroma of lemon, I smell decay of woods
like the tall statues, my veins perspire
I sink, I sink.

With scissors of betrayal
the humming of howls
loss of births
I am lost, I am lost

Teeths crackle,
with each twist in my cerebrum
words hurt like
electric wires,
I die, I die

©My Valiant Soul


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my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

25 thoughts on “The Endgame”

      1. Sometimes my humour just slip badly. Oh, thank you for understanding, the erroneous comma in the comment too(hulk… was for the person you are talking about in your poem, yep) . You works are truly awesome. Yep keep inspiring. 😰😰😰☺️

        Liked by 1 person

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