And the whirring sirens flare in her ears
As the final blow
And it is done.
-a.h.
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whirring | 1
Poetry❝Hope is the thing with feathers that perches into the soul - and sings tunes without words - and never stops at all.❞ [welcome to whirring act one. this is the first installment of my personal poetry. these writings are so near and dear to my heart...
