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ENTROPY I am under attack Hounded by terrorists With sophisticated weaponry Hitherto unheard of Yet in simpler terms they be called Words So many of them Both terrorists and words They come a begging From crook to cranny To the furthest reaches of the Mind With laser guided precision They reach my very being Plaguing me asleep Flattening me awake Tempting my very Soul And I look into the mirror And see a masked reflection The eyes familiar The smile vanished And a mocking Face In the havoc of the heart And the condemning of the soul I seek succor And both the arms And the defenses are but Words They let me live happily Yet they terrorize me oft At times its colours so dazzling be And at others the blacks too a mystery I am but lost in words and Verse I think aloud And scream so quiet To emptiness I hit out And wonder at times Poetry is so beautiful that I hate It. ~Vikram C~
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