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The Suicide Bomber
A matter and martyr in the making.
He came smiling at us;
Crossing the corridor, then he turned.
Inexplicable and unpredictable, his face appeared;
And he hurried briskly inside the crowded hall.
Seen, from a valued view.
He moved and the guards suspected him;
A shared glance, not taking on trust.
Then he ran, and they chased;
Things changed, the day looking terribly sick.
A BOOM, from detonated fuels.
Building blown, everywhere burning.
Blood and havoc, terrorism invented;
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