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-Jantar Mantar, October 2

Last week, we dreamed a feathered thing
dangled high, in tangled wires—

the scent of wood and petrol smoke,
the violent glow of pre-dawn fires;

some terrors are too large to name—
some wounds, so deep, they’ll never mend—

still, something’s breaking in the east;
friends, even this long night will end.
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