Amid the eternity of emptiness,
I had soared up much more than i could have endured.
And when the fated mirror had to reveal my face,
I felt the melancholy, the fear that had lured,
My angels to escape, my demons now unveiled,
My hopes to disappear, my efforts now failed.
Now that my peace has clashed with my own ghost,
Shouldn't I pour my vodka and raise this toast...
Shouldn't I pour my vodka and raise this toast.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Vodka by Bijay Poudel )
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