Category: Poetry
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The hour has come
For thoughts foretold
Crimson red
Pent up gore
Fight in store

Take it!
Or leave it!
Shift no more
Least avoid
Tests unseen
Rhythm in sync
Nothing to hold

The hand-made lies
It is easy;
It is not hard
Much perceived
All a facade

No one knows
The way to go
Only I
The one woman show

it is not too late.
Be not beguiled.
To think there is
Yet another
solution be
We shall see