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WpMetadataReadComplete Sun, May 19, 2019<5 mins
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Poetry
Sometimes, all you can do Is to think of him... Think of him Till the night passes by... Till the mind tries... Till the heart races... And till times goes away.
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#408
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A gasp of breath A sudden death The tale begun To know the darkness is to love the light To worship the dawn and fear the coming night Night has patterns that can be read Less by the living than by the dead Night can be sweet like a kiss Though not on a night like this.

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