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Comments about Pritam Dax
I push myself
Through the pains of a hailstorm
Where the sea’s throat is trusty,
Where the killers cry for blood.
My filthy soul and my dusty skin
Shall crib for-
Something undefined foolishness
I see some never understood desire
Approaching me again,
To suck my breath away-
Makes me comfort on a discomfort zone.
He knows nothing now.
He will breath and breath
Until the jealous death cribs...