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Hungry Stone

 The faces of the dead aroused

Once more.

Yesterday, when the night was deep

The moonless sky came down 

on the moor.

In my half sleep,

Into the ocean of blue wind,

Having thrown a few stones, 

I looked behind, 

into the black water pond,

And I saw 

A dead woman, to bite her lips.


Sometimes, 

here I feel the summer wind.

Sometimes

In the nights of my astonishment

All the beautiful dead of women of 

soft mind,

Would come in the candle light, 

In amazement.

Today if you see me

In the gathering of that dead women,

Like a fade silhouette,

Sitting into the lonely plain.

Think me like a hungry stone, waiting

For a candle light dinner.

©kdee14

©santanudatta_

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