Noise

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.
.
.
Voices are made of words,
Words made up of letters,
The letters are 26,
Yet the words don't seem to end,
The noise continues,
It consumes us,
It rots our brains,
In a way,
Where we can't come out,
At the end,
In our memories,
Faces don't stay,
Words do,
Noises do.
.
.
.
-Krishna Parmar

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