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 Apr 2020 Carina
Sourodeep
Above this cloud of madness
flows a gentle cool breeze
drifting  away all the sadness
striped butterflies flapping at ease

sound of the waves are heard
once suppressed by the chaos
rhythmic crashing no longer weird
silent therapy broken by the gentle dose

If only one drowns deep can one taste
the salt can be the much needed sweet
where there is no emotion to waste
and only generous soul to greet.
More lonely writing sitting by the window.
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