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Oct 2021
A sheer slate of industry,
broken by the melodic ridges.
Echoing the smallest whispers,
and dulling the mind's largest cries,
these walls defy all which seems sane.

Without color,
without shade.
Simple textures
resonate my cadence.

Standing strong and stagnant;
unrefined,
undefined.
This place looks like a prison. The chairs in the lecture hall are literally bolted to the floor.
Ayn
Written by
Ayn  20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)   
86
   Ayesha
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