𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹ Prophet Resides

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Some days when the sun is brighter
Some nights when the stars initiate
I lay under the sheath of silence while—
Exchange of quite syllables continues...

Sacred whistles of leaves revive me
Whispering breezes tickle my insides
Even when the tears threaten to slip
An invisible prophet resides in my soul...

And maybe when I was meant to fly—
I felt trapped in gaining these wings
And maybe when I was burning up—
I felt collected embracing this heat...

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 26 ⏰

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𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈Where stories live. Discover now