Even the purest light can create the darkest shadow
Even the finest painting can deteriorate despite its glow
Oh, how can you say it's everlasting?
How can you be certain when it can wither to nothing?
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Poetry of the Soul
PoetryOur soul is like an ocean full of deep secrets, hidden fears, demons, and angels lurking at the depth of our being. If eyes are the window of the soul, then where would be the door? ------------------- Collection of poems, words left unsaid, words...
