The Body
Burdened by sin,
It becomes lighter, little by little,
And ascends to the sky,
Light and free.
And when that image returned to us,
As the dove always returns,
As the ebb and flow,
As the time does,
The image said it found no meaning of sin there.
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Taste Of Anger
PoetryI choose anger instead of sorrow I prefer madness over sadness I never want to be a victim. cover © : SIILDA
