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Search through my torn Life.!

O my dear!
The Misery has a tight grasp
Of my shoulders.
The end opposite..?
Must only be Joy!

To the extent possible
I rid the thorns
From piercing your soles.

The Day will dawn...

Then..
The torments underwent
As roots into our hearts..
The joys
As the blossoms on our faces.

Till then..
Through my torn life
Let us patiently search for
Our Golden Skies.!

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