like the flies of rain,
pain of birth carried till demise.
'twas not the chandelier of happy nines,
but giggles often broke the gloomy ice..!!
had the fame of love started flaunting its shades,
the dusk of Brida had been a dawn..
with tattered chair in the lawn,
my lamp of love fumed just on wicks...!!
Amazing write up. Full of insights..
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