Slow
Death is slow
Like a sick flower with bleak petals that no longer grow
One by one, the petals begin to fall
Unable to avoid the final death call
Death is slow
Like a flow of water seeping into the lungs of a man
Slowly his breath turning into grains of sand
And the fate of death does not evoke fear
Rather the suspenseful path to death
That causes one to shed a tear
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