The words are my tears
That plummets
Drop by drop
On the canvas,
From the ocean
Of pain;
With scattered truths
And some dispersed lies
That falls
On the barren soul
Like a brisk spell
Of rain;
The art of treachery
You taught me that night
To sustain those mighty curses
Now diffuse through my veins
As I try to dissolve
The vengeance in my verses.
And as I die in the lap
Of your riveting perception
You are born in my heart
Out of, the withered deception.
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