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Feb 2018
Closed eyes, heart not beating. They lay there on a hearse bedecked with flowers. Flowers which smell of them. So we realise their presence for one last time;  as they were near. With every petal 's fragrance waning, they go far and far and far.
Now we know, they are not here. Marvel how a person fades like his scent....
Written by
Mehak
  297
       R, Fawn, ---, Bee, --- and 2 others
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