Tear-Voided Mid-nights

On dawns like this
We tend  to banish the tiredness of questioning
Literally missing the turning point
And decide
to let down its perennial yet fruitless vitality
at sunset
On a willfully-deserted road.
Another shower of silent metaphors to drive off,
Leaving  ground for paradoxical debt -
the ultimate expression of regret
Set out to capture the hidden answers
All their impulses and subtle hints
which surpass a true legacy,
and generates a vision of doubt
brought forward like a self- incriminating alibi,
put behind like an empty fantasy crime,
a vague contrast
between absolute flooding and apocalyptic drought.

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