mrsf
the calling of the virus
whispering to the ears of the soldiers
gather all the troops
as the wives condemn the death
the disguising elements of the enemies
in the front of the gate
to the point
the sound of the trumpets
melodious to the ears
trapping the the warriors
alarming the comrades
hailing the fighters
gather to the center of the light
thundering voice for the soulless
cracking the drums
as the maidens dance
facing towards me
spitting the poisonous words
axing my breaths
the marching away of their feet
following through different path
piling the gold
asking the keepers
is there a place to rest
answering to the lung
roaring for all the deaf
singing their tunes
exporting their truth
exposing their pose
tell all the lies under
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