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Qualyxian Quest
Poems
Dec 2018
My soul churns
We arrive in Wetheral at night
I wai and whisper, we’ve returned
mystical the mist, River Eden sight
time now for time to be unlearned
Warsaw saw war, but now we do not fight
They ask identity, shock in my mind burns
Precious days, then the Irish flight
Perhaps psychotic, perhaps sacred silence
My soul churns.
Written by
Qualyxian Quest
55/M/Elsewhere
(55/M/Elsewhere)
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