Japanese Antiques

Japanese Antiques

1 min
305


I carried a glass of Poison and curbed like a fish does when thrown outside the pond then asked myself, "Are you the one to bake your own flesh or the one along?"


There was no answer and a lot of axioms. I always dreamt to swim like a halcyon but Last Sunday, I read an article printed in a 5×4 quagmire at the front page that had some title, "This time an 8-month-old". I was so much sanguine about the content still read it.


Will you feel rancor after being touched from a decayed skin? A gullible query again my mind had.

I replied "Acrimonious" and started making the glass empty into my throat so that it could swim inside the veins of my brain falling me asleep, Asleep from the fear of being lived by a dead soul following a frustrating stretch to both the ends of my lips.

The entire hollow journey of thoughts banged the stones of prejudice but I learned to meditate.

When I opened my eyes, saw myself splintered morph on a piece of Japanese antiques.


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