Whispering sheaves of our lives
The distant echo's in the past
Vibrating breath into eternity
Pristine parchment
As yet
Unadorned
Whispering sheaves of our lives
The distant echo's in the past
Vibrating breath into eternity
Pristine parchment
As yet
Unadorned
mmmmmm wonderful poem, i like this one very much, i can feel it
Birds make great sky circles of their freedom
How do they do it?
They fall
And in falling, they’re given wings
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