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there is nothing
in my hands as
the hills of Rome
burn

there is nothing
in my eyes as
the panther stalks
the antelope

there is nothing in
my mind as love
is given last rites
and sent to hell

there is nothing
in my heart as
birds flee in terror
from the coming
storm

there is nothing in
my soul as life murders
life

there is nothing
in my imagination
as I write this poem
at 5:08 a.m. early
Sunday morning
Written by buddhakitty
Published
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