The Dying Wind

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The black beauty of the night sky silhouettes me from the rest of the world. I stand there, alone. Always alone.

The stars that twinkle so bright stare at me, judgingly. Teasingly they wink, telling of what I'll never have. About how I'll never have him.

Crying, I look away, towards the trees. They sway back and forth. The waves of the ocean crash restlessly against the shore. The wind blows stronger, and as it does, I grow weaker. Slowly, I sift away back into the dust from whence I came.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 01, 2013 ⏰

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