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The birds flock when the seasons call, The tides ebb and flow into eternity. Day was never meant to find the Night. Fish were never meant to fly. The calloused hands of the farmer Tend to life Tend to death. Naught is amiss.
0
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC
Divinity
The birds flock when the seasons call, The tides ebb and flow into eternity. Day was never meant to find the Night. Fish were never meant to fly. The calloused hands of the farmer Tend to life Tend to death. Naught is amiss.
Written by
27/M/South Africa
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC
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