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Seeing the impossible.

A light, far away from memories.

The streams that wash them away,

And the people who replant them.

Feeling the impossible.

A rose, within the midst of knives

And thorns. Dried blood covers them.

The rain washes them to be red again.

Hearing the impossible.

The truth escaping from some lips, emotions elevate,

Till they are no more. They are wasted.

Like those people we shunned.

Smelling the impossible.

A fragrance of murder among deaths.

Love, lust, life, and lies. Their odours.

Tears escape. I let them flow.

Tasting the impossible.

The bliss, the future, and the past.

The city of glass which can shatter anytime.

My heart of stone which has finally cracked.

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