shesshy

against all the odds, i still hope & write.

ACHE UNDER THE BLANKETS

yearning upon the turn of crowl into a white

the intensity of rainbow in a dim room

the quiet between moments of film in the head

across the war, loving you was a countryside life in spite of the storm in it. nevertheless,,

unhoped scenery arrived

the crystal clear sight ensued,  and;

it is nothing but just a disaster

(wish you’ll be haunt forever)

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