On strange days of the strange years, you feel like to wield energy from your  pen. Sometimes it creates angel. Sometimes it creates demon -- just you have to unbiased to hear their tales.  One night, coming across on such entity, create a magic of poetry. 

 

" though the days are cruel, though it speak of  nightmare. Still you going love this one. Give an applaud and cheer"

 

Blunders, the sins I committed

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