I have taken a gulf
into my heart
What uses are pen, that
deny its ink
to take whiskers of the night
If I am deluded
I am deluded by my senses -
light, sound and smell;
That which touch me
wear a woeful look
My deformity limp
on the steady path of life
I was perfect in death
reigning my silent throne
whispering words beyond silence
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