
But the restless nights and the stormy tides
Stirred by the hidden asymmetrical whole
Digs a crescent hole in my restive soul, And I let out a moan listlessly
Pretending that the pain has benumbed the senses
Until nothing imprints nothing.
A very beautiful collection.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Photos with stories at Parchmononline
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