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Kenēn
Poems
Oct 2016
Last scream of the last unicorn
We are cold.
Whether measured by the sun's standard
Or by the sound made by the clouds.
But right now an unrecognized feeling
Is creating a filter through my eyes.
This feeling is so strong and irrevocably true
That I'm left wishing that it's pure.
Written by
Kenēn
Japan
(Japan)
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