Dry leaves
scattered all over
on the
pathway
Withered,
pest-eaten
Yellow,
brown foliage.
And this
brings into me
A heavy
numbness.
Like the
billboard of love
Inviting
his women,
Like the
mirage in the desert
Inviting thirsty
nomads,
Such is
destiny for beggars of life
For mothers
of stillborn children.
And this in
me
Brings a
heavy numbness.
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