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The Renditions
by Prem Antony
Miles I walked,
Gazing the unseen,
Dreaming the real,
Crying for the obvious.
Blisters on palm,
Clusters in mind,
Binding the day and
Winding the night
Attempting to forget and
Memory fights against
Traces as perpetual bruises
White cells turn weedy
It?s a struggle
With less reasons
I lose
And love triumphs
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