Category: /General/You to whom, I
am lost, the remaining pain
will fetch the grace―
poise and dignity of
The future lies in―
the halo of the hill, where
the blood was spilled last night.
A black spot on the sun was
enlarging. I spell your name
in a bird song, that croons
tirelessly in timeless dawn.
The moon drenched lake
wails for the boat not to come.
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