Be Thou A Trigger In My Hand
A Aniruddha Pathak
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Shoes on, a man walks,
Crushing under a few ants,
But he scarce this knows.
Nor yet the ants know.
His day's job duly well done,
Death moves on to next.
Man was a trigger
To killing claws of Nature,
The bullet finds ants.
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Reflections |13.07.2019|
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