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Oct 2021
The solitude of the cliffside,
nothing but a sharpened breeze
to comfort the wayfaring soul.
The din of crashing waves
drawing forth a sense of exhaustion.

Thinly layered, I look out from above the precipice.
The biting air just another fact of life.
Looking upwards, the sky uses the clouds as a vest;
a warmth I currently desire,
however exhaustion closes in and I lay down to rest.
Ayn
Written by
Ayn  20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)   
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