Monday, August 15, 2011

cold fingers


Astagfirullahal’adzim
Here is the stunning stuff,
Then the cold spread over my fingers
It should be resisted
No one no one
Then the burning heated hatred
And the ceiling lower down
And the thought coming

It shouldn’t have appear
And tangling mind sweep my tears

You can decide
It is not the final
You cannot make it do something
 coz it is not the final

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