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#trolaan
Waiting, scent of ozone air thickens with promises and sighs, Watching the skyward giggling for the first drops to fall. Wild hearts drumming, we’re ready to rise, Wandering barefoot, bare skin fearless of it all. Anticipation shivers beneath our fingertips, Arms slowly reach, darkness finding our curves. Aching, we’re eager to taste rain on lips, Alive in the night, bodies as one, careless what observes. Now, the rain’s rhythm is our only sound, Naked, our hands chart each secret trace. Need is the language our bodies have found, Nurturing touch, we fill every empty space. Over us, winter’s chill lingers outside, Our bodies, skin-on-skin cocooned in down blankets so deep. Ours is the pulse no frost can divide— Open your eyes, love, our memories will keep.
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May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 10:37 AM UTC
The Rhythms Of The Rain Find Our Folds
Threatening the mind of a brave soldier The dark forces will remain unexplained Tell the generations ahead what’s colder Tyranny or democracy, peace maintained? Hell may fall upon those who tears apart He chose to dispatch the strength acquired Howling the deeds he did from the start Heathen, called himself to meet the required Eventually, we will foresee the future now Evolving a supernova to explode by then Even the universes need a leader to bow Ever will you believe the lord by then? Vanished theories, then will rise from Vegetating brains, once hesitated to form Vigorous thoughts, soon will drum Violently, watching the prophecies form ::::: thanks to Elizabeth Squires
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Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 9:48 AM UTC
Soothsaying (Trolaan)