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pinch of obsession,,litres of blood,,gallons of sweat,,
pitted against hundreds of kilograms of lead,,
doin "n" rounds till am half dead
then to rise up again,,enjoy immense pain,,
then to loose a hundreds pleasures
only to gain inches of unknown treasures
passion against glory,knowin my side well
madness aint dying come what may
this aint damn no clay,to be by the waves sway
n I’m doin this,fallen,bleeding…even the kne
pitted against hundreds of kilograms of lead,,
doin "n" rounds till am half dead
then to rise up again,,enjoy immense pain,,
then to loose a hundreds pleasures
only to gain inches of unknown treasures
passion against glory,knowin my side well
madness aint dying come what may
this aint damn no clay,to be by the waves sway
n I’m doin this,fallen,bleeding…even the kne
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| Title | poems really which strIke INNERSELF | ||
| Country | India |
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