buddishm
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She cradled my hand and spat the truth
this religion is just not for you.
I peddled to shore when the sun rose
and practiced a life I have not yet disclosed.
Ripples danced over my chest
All is calm from where I stand
Purple and pink flowers sway in the breeze.
What should be a good time is no longer.
Those flowers were destroyed by tanks,
as was my faith.
My land no longer exists.