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This poem reflects on existence with sharp, fragmented questions — shifting between life’s fragile beginnings, the ambiguity of friendship and enmity, and the futility of political power. It moves from the struggle of daily difficulties to the inevitability of death, suggesting that identity is not shaped by titles or alliances, but by the work and traces one leaves behind.

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Carved in Dust  Haven or the world, where am I? Born with one sperm. In term of friendship, who is enemy? Mosquito whisper into your ears. Cassius or Brutus ... who is the greatest politician? I will look on both indifferently. You are the one, would be known by work.   Here comes difficulties, Open un to the field, and to the sky; The instruments of fear and warning, unto Some monstrous state. Finding yourself so apt to die.  

Poem: Whispers Beyond Mortality

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Whispers Beyond Mortality Sometimes it's hard to be like atheist, but believing in fate . I am not an omnipotent nor omniscient Philanthropist - I try as much I can  " Look an as a black sheep " Occasionally, I try to be like you all. But I am not the " Birds of feather flock together " Animate I work for the home, but the satisfaction is hopeless. I dough - Mercenary . Theres a life not awed off Never explain I, never express. It is the voice of inner body, Which free from all the miseries and anxiety of life. Coming to the stage of octogenarian , over and over thinking of memories. Unknowing I understand little do I last. and at the very moment, I will be gone. Finaly, the day once again I'll be born, Having a new LIFE...