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~Cradle of Solitude~
For we know not…
Why our tribulations…
Are given as such…
Our fragile forms…
Created from the dust.
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~Brahma & Airavata~
Long ago in lands of golden sand…
Brahma turned to Saraswati…
And gently kissed her inked hand…
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~Winner & More~
Preparing to pick the winner…
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~Gleaning Granules~
She saw the fuzzy granules…
Costumed pollen dusted capsules…
Imprisoned upon their stems…
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~Git’er Done~
As the morn’ began to break…
A problem there was sure to face…