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I see them sing, they sail with thin air
Fingers inkling and linking,
Entwined entrusted engraved.
They do not rest, their feet gliding high above.
They speak of joy, resonating chimes
Faces lit with mirth, resplendent smiles.
‘What do you veil, What beauty you keep?’
Beatified, they greet my words.
They outshine banalities, like scorching heat it lit me up.
Give me wings, to go sky high
Color me Gulaabi, I want to fly…


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