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A Mirage?
In the central piece of the desert Sahara,
I met a man whose hands held guns,
with clothes drenched in blood,
but eyes that beamed,
and mouth that still crackled
the ugly sound of his laughter.
Our...
In the central piece of the desert Sahara,
I met a man whose hands held guns,
with clothes drenched in blood,
but eyes that beamed,
and mouth that still crackled
the ugly sound of his laughter.
Our...
