What Can’t Be Seen
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Trapping Colors
Trapping Iris, clearly see.
Α dream within the light is clarity that daze us. What’s not born is dead and what’s dead has no ending.
“Empty” loneliness said and i was mischieved. Nonmoving, like an ocean it floods me.
Now I know, the sky feels sorry for me. Cause when it rains, lower than me, it falls from grace.
Wanderers
Silence
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