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Jul 2019
A perfect day
With clouds gathered high
For the sinners to pray
And the righteous to die

Rain echoes with the tolls
And to the corners end
Running through my beaten soles
As if to make amends

You who seems pure
Do not kiss my feet of fears
Nor be so loving and sure
To wash my filth with tears

I wish to you my friends
With my unbeaten heart of stone
Never bequeath your few amends
For it is I who should atone
Written by
Anya  20/F/Narnia
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