Bazi alis Subrata Ray
The Flowing Temporal
Mystic mystery mouths,
Through the pores of installed unconscious,
From Nature-fed temporal vase.
Fogs wind round and round,
And oil-filled earthen lamps wick,
Then, with sudden jerk the sun is gone.
The Vice-wolf vaults and vaults,
And the Temptation erects flag,
Then, above the corpses float the hags.
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