ananda majumder


Sky Of Kabul

The sky is Kabul isn’t always blue
Seemingly a texture of text, yet to be descended down
Love is always the synthesized ablution
Like saga tested in annihilative iteration
Transcending the lines of rhetoric

The sky of Kabul is often assuredly azure
Ingenious to lure for a low fly
History is heavily lopped with text into pieces, adages gone

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