Untitled Part 1

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In the angry torrent of wailing winds,

I am a silent lost little water drop;

Searching for an acceptable abode,

I fell into a barren land of minds.

Estranged within the boundaries of colors,

I am a colorless lost little water drop;

Scouring for a humble shelter,

I am trapped into a maze of closed doors.

On a face distorted with a grimace,

I am a stray lost little water drop;

Sorrow being my beloved creator,

I leave dust and emptiness as my trace.

Drowning in a sea of selfishness,

I am a lonely lost little water drop;

Looking for a parched throat to quench,

 I am unused and purposeless.

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