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Dec 2016
Return. Light, not blinding
Dispel my fear, my terror
of
loneliness (in hiding)
I. I. I.
Taste, nothing but ashes.
The hard fought flame called:
Us.
But as all fires die out
And all hope. All trust.
We must forgive (or at least forget)
We must return to dust.
Oskar Erikson
Written by
Oskar Erikson  24/M/London
(24/M/London)   
225
 
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