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Ends

Poor scarlet waves born to die already. Wearing their mother’s robe On their fragile body. Why do we rush to our ends, hitting the things unsteady? There is some grief in ends, I know.. But maybe there is rhapsody.

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Written by

Woe_Begone

For You?

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Written by

Woe_Begone

Published: Aug 12, 2020
LinesWords: 939

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