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Muddy flows the Ganges

The river of time flows muddied 

Through weeping shores in spate.
It carries with it
The hunger of our orphans
And the neglect of our masters


Here a child died 
There a friend held on
To a dead friend
Here a mother gave birth
To a still-born
And there a old man
Sang to the Sea
For redemption from the heat

The sins of many
Would hang heavy on all of us
And when it is time to collect
Let's be ready,  without apologies
To pay. 

The river of time runs sullied
From the lament of the multitudes
Who were sacrificed by some 
Who blamed a virus
For the wretchedness of their soul.

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