I fall from a cliff with a clue,
That I did something dusty for my organic Eden-flu.
But I never felt, it will possess me through.
My sinful heart often tears out shameful glue.
For what I have done to you.
Leaving behind those youthful dew,
is like an ocean full of sinful devil on a cue.
Wrath of Yama knocked me for few,
But told him, forgive my immature romantic view.
Surely he will rush back with the heavenly issue.
Have I done anything inorganic for you will sue?
It blindly occurs, when everything is placid blue.
But he barely buy my affective fallacious value.
Why don’t you needle through Cupid`s arrow?
Or Krishna will mark you with pentagonal Zero.

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