Confessions

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I must confess that till we do not see the beckoning beams

 Of moonlit pathways , tickling the tender sand in silence

And gaits arched with pure wood ,

Kissing the royal blue oceans painted with silver

                                Dancing  

                                                    And  

                  Pacing

                                                        Forward and back

Forward and back

As the alluring lights illuminate the skies freeing us from our own minds

We won't see the beauty in everything

Let alone each other.

(m.m)

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