Delayed End

That imaginary abode being saved from the intruders

Who are they? Their identity may have stirred from surreptitious thoughts

Tranquil pleasure rebuked by those steely gazes 

Nature of anxious moments feel ominous to the heart

There’s no cure of the fallacies, as the book of Nature was ransacked

Feeble abode barely stands now, rickety windows and doors squabble

Entwined with the fate of darkness, time delays its end


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