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Jan 2019
Trace your fingers along the strained string,
Hear the language of a heart,
May it alluringly sing,
And the passion’s dance will start.
Such a wonderful thing,
With no wings it flies,
Bringing only spring,
To thy glassy eyes.
If one dares to seek its lane,
It would surely be found,
With no pain,
Broken will finally be crowned.
Elizabeth
Written by
Elizabeth  18/F
(18/F)   
188
 
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