The dying—atop this burning mountain,
here,
espy not the living—beneath this fertile land,
below
...
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Dear Laureate of dread: how many mortals shall be composed to an early grave? how many souls shall die of virtual grim? how many innocent beings shall your victims become? on the aftermath of the rape and murder of Asifa Bano ur poem carries weight dear poet. tony
Dear poet, Thank you for the encouragement. I would like to read the poem you referred to, indeed.
Poignant reflection crafted in persuasive poetic expressions with conviction. A beautiful rhetorical poem. Thanks for sharing.
It's good to always hear your opinion Dike. Thank you.