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Oct 2021
A lash of autumn wind slices at the skin,
a gentle yet firm reminder of nature's harsh personality.
With the whip arises a spray of icy water,
Its bleak gray sheen housing an unparalleled vibrancy.

The drifting tides churn in wonder and expectation,
bringing this once still and silent slate
to a monochromatic spectrum.
Ayn
Written by
Ayn  20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)   
63
 
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