This cloth I wear,
People call it my Body,
Is slowly ageing,
With scars and wrinkles,
Etched with tattoos and bruises.
But, I, will grow wise,
More than yesterday,
More in tomorrow.
My soul shall remain dipped,
In the oceans of fire,
Named as youth.
Immortality, I shall taste,
Until Death strips of my cloth,
My soul, naked.
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