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May 2019
Streams of gold
Flow around
My wounded eyes
Down to the ground
A gift bestowed
A melted crown
Too much to bear
In darkness drowned
My vision blurred
Soon now to fade
I rest my head
Beneath the shade
Please remember
What still can be
Don't waste the world
On saving me
Hadrian Veska
Written by
Hadrian Veska
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