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Where?
These breezes whisper
something in my ear
a little too loud to call
it a whisper,
my own eyes sting with
dust I no longer see
in air
I stand somehow near
the lakes
where once I wished to
drown and die.
© Akshaiya
something in my ear
a little too loud to call
it a whisper,
my own eyes sting with
dust I no longer see
in air
I stand somehow near
the lakes
where once I wished to
drown and die.
© Akshaiya
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