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Madiba (sonnet14)
There are no dead ends, only the birthplace of awaited dreams. Plumbed with the bold mace.
The hidden roads opens to the dance hall, the river wash is brighter, the flowers shawl.
War or peace or war without end. Death and grief and deaf till none...
The hidden roads opens to the dance hall, the river wash is brighter, the flowers shawl.
War or peace or war without end. Death and grief and deaf till none...
