Vartika Pandey

[Ember of Dreams] (2/7/1997)

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The DEVOURERS Of ECSTASY

Deserts shall not have a foliage by mild showers.
Gods let rain fall on them who may bloom flowers.
But mine shall always be a crimson, blood-drenched hand
For my fate not lies in garlands, not desert sands.

Oh! My ecstasy has been murdered and devoured upon,
So I shall reside in the ravages of ghastly haunts.

How do I address the predators of my own bliss?

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