martes, 16 de junio de 2020

THOUSAND LIPS


A herd of silent haunted lips,
Behind the canopy for all truant eyes.
In the shadows of their impatient licks,
Stay calm so long to shield immunity.

They are now filthy like million quoted sin,
The race is suffering for their unfettered whims.
Some who go for casual dating blows,
Fall prey to madness on lip hunting flows.

Their gloom is pronounced like a dead man chamber,
Covered them all not to hell and gather.
They are the thieves now cowering a race,
All are worried about these dealers of faces.

Paramananda Mahanta

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