Falling like a stairway,
this division keeps lasting,
while your silver ring and your compass still point inward,
we are not alone at a standstill,
up to the waist and not a soul fed.
Knee deep in the weight,
for the water to collect,
up to the waist and not a soul fed,
we're playing catching up with the past,
in a future that still shines like it used to.
Nagarkot
Very Secretary
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