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  • Writer's pictureAmit Shankar

The Farce

We all need someone Someone, to save our soul Those dream crumbs That flicker of dying hope

We do need a finger to wrap ourselves around Assurance, however distant Warmth, however feeble Love, even if it’s phoney Faith, even a dented one is fine

It is dependence not love The centrifugal force Binding mortals in centripetal cohesion As the world around them blurs So does million notions

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