Lost Sands

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Is there retribution for a lost soul?

The pulsing of the veins,

The pumping of the adrenaline,

The staggering of breaths,

What's it to feel alive again?

Momentarily...

Periodically...

Handsomely...

To taste that sweetness in the air,

Even for the slight recognition of wealth,

Starving the roaring accessories that mount like spikes,

Is retribution possible?

For the timely soul...

Lost in the desert sand...

© Soshinie Singh

Author of the Phoenix Letters and the Mist Calling

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The Last Summer of Our Childhood

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