Solace is a kind word
in a gruesome world,
surrounded by wounds
of forgetful truths,
besieged with guilt
of vice and filth!
How deceiving can life be!
All lies were covered in
one single coffin buried deep
in the mind's blurring sea.
All I have done right
are the wrongs, I suppose:
I went in for many a fight,
I lost not, death was close!
I cannot undo my deeds.
In karma I place my beliefs!
The first afternoon rains
clap for my claims:
the beats on the roofs
like horses' matured hoofs
urge me to lull into solace,
a kind word I fear to face.
Death can be kind too,
pay a visit without a clue,
I shall depart then without a fuss
if that's what kind karma wants!
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