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With no strength to fight;

no will to live;

she woke up with great fright;

striving a bridle-path towards great divide.

Trembling with dread,

 eyes bowling with reminiscing the grievious act;

face full of repentance;

criticizing her way of tact,

soundlessness or peacfulness u say?

brutal than satan's mind they played;

blood and blood only blood was there;

and a pinch of lamenting was drazzelled everywhere.

was this kept to be secret ?

a twist on the path, striving with full contentment;

lying there with a will of freed ;

this should be only between us,they leered with greet

                                     ~ poetic priti

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