When the poet leaves with his eternal journey
After which neither return nor return
Cover him with the ashes of his scorched poems
From dumped drafts stacked
...
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Lamp oil has finished
Ink of quills has finished
White papers have become black
Around bin has filled up with torn writings papers
Undertakers has come
O bier bearer! please stop your walking
O Necropolis! Wait a while
Let me bring my phoenix soul- the grey haired writings!
//// love it
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Lamp oil has finished Ink of quills has finished White papers have become black Around bin has filled up with torn writings papers Undertakers has come O bier bearer! please stop your walking O Necropolis! Wait a while Let me bring my phoenix soul- the grey haired writings! //// love it
I like your nice writing and comment, Thank you