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"auroras" poems
Goodnight stars Goodnight summer Goodnight interstellar glimmer Goodnight auroras, forever dancing Goodnight to all the treetop prancing Goodnight Hailey, racing comet Goodnight to whom I write my sonnet Goodnight crickets Goodnight moon Goodnight to you all, I'll see you soon
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
Night Lover's Lullaby
I hold onto the hope that someday I will see them. Those lights drug across the sky by a goddess with her water colour brush. Greens and blues and pinks that dance a star's song into being while the sky stretches and wakes up and prepares to host this fit of brilliance. When people down below lift their eyes to the heavens. Irises are filled and reflect a dazzling champagne of pastels which God has created. He wants to say 'I love you' and could think of no better way than this expression. Where snow gives way to reflective ice and the shiny sparkles slide silently through the night. It is the visual of the heart when in love, and it lights up the night like the first beautiful moment of a stage being brought to life. The conductor lifts his hands and a radiant explosion surrounds the audience. Music is not needed and none will ever accurately describe it. Few will see this spectacularity because the auroras only reveal themselves to the minds that wander and the hands that reach towards heaven.
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
Aurora
in imperfect creases on fabric of time like colours jostling about in a kaleidoscope and in eyes of seamless auroras we all long to be freely blooming dandelions
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
dandelions
The splendour of glory, Stretched beauty Across the universe That none could reverse. Naturally occuring lights that leave any human mind in awe, They're called auroras;that's not all.. Big is beautiful!when you take a look at these huge sights of divinity, So gigantic they look like they've existed for infinity, Located in Asia is the mount Everest, King of the forest. And in America;the Grand Canyon, So grand I'd spell it in lights of neon. The great barrier reef found in the Coral sea of Australias north eastern coast is so beautiful, Naturally created by living organisms,its so beyond cool More like the view of the Rio De Janeiro Harbour, Another great sight to remember. Talk of  the beautiful,ever flowing and rainbowed Victoria falls, How to fully describe it,only God knows, Its location has brought its proud owners Zambia and Zimbabwe to unification, Indeed its a great destination. Sometimes flamey and always beautiful is the Paricutin a cinder cone volcano, Located in Mexico. As beautiful as they all are, You're a better star In the eyes of our creator.
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
The glorious seven natural wonders of the world
”˜˜”°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆ Stars gather in a twinkly show      moon ascending in the dark sky,           drowsy souls falling asleep                in the still of night passing by.         *Drifting,               floating,                   peaceful dreams*                in gentle flows of height, and depth,          myriad auroras of colors dance a soft melody, on whispered breath. Lingering just a moment or two       as the world of dreams take hold,            putting tired souls at ease                in a soothing light of mosaic gold.         *Drifting,               floating,                   in songs of night*             magical melodies fill the air,       floating upon a gentle breeze tranquil moments, and answered prayers. Stars gather in a twinkly show      moon ascending in the dark sky,           drowsy souls falling asleep                in the still of night passing by. ~               ☆”˜˜”°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°”˜˜”°•.¸☆
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May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC
Night Sings Softly
Come the auroras and infinite landscapes – Tangents wrought outright constants, Parallels perched perpendicular outrights, So to call your ellipse, When the orbit’s outstretched Landing meetings where we’d at least Learn to alter tomorrow. It’s stellar silly, and paths primordial, Leaving my layovers for the trials And abandoned, the moon’s to forever follow you; So to composed and formulae proofed Come the time you mother said, "He’s just a coma And dust best left forgotten." Quit draggin’ me to space baby.
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Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC
The Perigees
There's an oasis in my desert. Palm trees and koi live here where sands are soil and winds are thick and wet. Cloths that fall from sky to floor, made from a million counts of thread. A beige place, now pastel mixtures of blue and green. Unlike anything the gods could ever dream. In my body there's a desert oasis on which even I haven't laid my sight. And as I sit here still, I feel it moving and humming like a generator when there's no light. Vibrating auroras through the skies of an African night. In my soul there's a desert oasis. One that has betrayed the sight of many as mirage. A dissappearing trick, a myth, a facade. Here is where the weak are left for dead. The cruel collaboration between Hathor and Set. In my body, where my heart stays, between the fragile spaces, there's an hourglass that holds my soul in which there's a desert... where you'll find an oasis.
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May 28, 2023
May 28, 2023 at 3:11 PM UTC
Hourglass Oasis
Wolf adorns her howl, Almighty Jewel of Snow. Controlled by Auroras shadow, Slipping through the wood. She is a beta, Walking in the path of Omega. She is marked by the moon, A star upon her brow. White as snow, Pure holiness. She searches for mateship, Someone to be with for eternity. Even as wolf of Aurora, She is Mortal as can be. Thy Jewel of Snow, Tranquil by Ice. She will become Omega, To find the mate. For the rest of their lives.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
Adorned Howl to Thy Mate
I wish we were friends Angels flying in the cold air Incandescent auroras Prism reflections Uncertain ends My lovely eyes Electrified fences I can't advance The rain comes out of my eyes Bleeding hearts on the other side Your resplendent eyes The young hero Propriétaire du ciel I was alone Asking to myself When the sky is going to be ours I need a friend first Not you? - Codelandandmore // 23:06 PM ©
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
Fils du Ciel
When Black Roses cease to BLOOM, And violets are Black and Blue; When Ravens in the dead of Night, Fall upon our Morning Dew; This Love that clouds thee, Upon our Sublimity Day - Idle in Auroras of August; To my flower - pray!
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
Bloom
Under the Auroras, beneath the nebulas, behind the stars -- you can find me next to you, -- gazing -- falling asleep in your arms.
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Stargazer.
yes, i move, i live, i make mistakes; water that flows and blends, i feel the fierce vertigo of movement: smell the jungles, touch new earth. yes, i move, i search for anything suns, auroras, storms and forgetting. why are you here wretched and worn? you are the rock that i pass by.
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
and you? [translation of alfonsina storni's ¿y tú?]
The mighty Atlas, father of those seven sisters, Bears the weight of heaven on his broad shoulders. And even one of the brothers three, lives eternal; In Chaos realms, Tartarus' black abyss, in which No soul returns, to gaze upon life's light once more. Although, forgive me, I lie; a few, a few selected, Have returned from amidst heavy woe, pushing Down their sorrows. Orpheus ventured, With sweet song, motherly ordained and with divine, Unrivalled skill on his lyre, seduced Hades himself. I too, challenge his great powers; and with her skirt Flapping with speed, ride on Auroras saffron chariot, Cooking the sky's dark covering wings, to a baking red, While the sun gallops up, stampeding behind our cart. I play, not keen, to act the fool, and lay these pale ivy Laments in front, which my lips have yet not touched. I place you in the centre, forests following, clear streams Flowing as crystals sway on its surface; and yet, I have not put them to my lips; but keep them by. I praise not this, but sing, because together we sit On this soft green grass; now the woods are leafing, Now the year is at its loveliest, the cheeky girl Pelts me with apples. Presents are laid up for my Emily, I myself have observed where doves make their nests. I'll pick ten apples, picked from a woodland tree, And for you, I'll pick ten more tomorrow. You breezes waft a word or two to the gods' ears And to my pure white seraphim, for her to hear. I love my angel most of all, for when I left, She wept and said ‘So long, love, so long.' Wolves are sad for the folds, rain for the crops, Gales for the trees, and Emily, me for you. I love my muse, let him who loves you share your paradise. Let honey flow from him, let roses blossom From his pores, to pick flowers and earth born strawberries, To dip you, in springs of tears myself. My love is ruinous And the sky extends no wider than my heart. Say, in what lands the flowers inscribe your name, The name of goddesses; for who fears the sweet, Or feels the bitterness of love; let them drink their fill.
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Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 9:13 AM UTC
The mighty Atlas
The mighty Atlas, father of those seven sisters, Bears the weight of heaven on his broad shoulders. And even one of the brothers three, lives eternal; In Chaos realms, Tartarus' black abyss, in which No soul returns, to gaze upon life's light once more. Although, forgive me, I lie; a few, a few selected, Have returned from amidst heavy woe, pushing Down their sorrows. Orpheus ventured, With sweet song, motherly ordained and with divine, Unrivalled skill on his lyre, seduced Hades himself. I too, challenge his great powers; and with her skirt Flapping with speed, ride on Auroras saffron chariot, Cooking the sky's dark covering wings, to a baking red, While the sun gallops up, stampeding behind our cart. I play, not keen, to act the fool, and lay these pale ivy Laments in front, which my lips have yet not touched. I place you in the centre, forests following, clear streams Flowing as crystals sway on its surface; and yet, I have not put them to my lips; but keep them by. I praise not this, but sing, because together we sit On this soft green grass; now the woods are leafing, Now the year is at its loveliest, the cheeky girl Pelts me with apples. Presents are laid up for my Emily, I myself have observed where doves make their nests. I'll pick ten apples, picked from a woodland tree, And for you, I'll pick ten more tomorrow. You breezes waft a word or two to the gods' ears And to my pure white seraphim, for her to hear. I love my angel most of all, for when I left, She wept and said ‘So long, love, so long.' Wolves are sad for the folds, rain for the crops, Gales for the trees, and Emily, me for you. I love my muse, let him who loves you share your paradise. Let honey flow from him, let roses blossom From his pores, to pick flowers and earth born strawberries, To dip you, in springs of tears myself. My love is ruinous And the sky extends no wider than my heart. Say, in what lands the flowers inscribe your name, The name of goddesses; for who fears the sweet, Or feels the bitterness of love; let them drink their fill.
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40
of all the galaxies in this vast universe i am glad to know his his words are auroras eluminating my thoughts and when he breathes out i love yous yeses, please, or my name it is my zodiacal light what lulls me to sleep at night and wakes me in the morning i know his umbra and his penumbra his ins and his outs his sweet-talk, sunspots his full-moon eyes, though brazen with faculae are all i wish to look into every moment of my life i know the valles of his body the crevices running through his chest his heart a flare his kiss a bolide our love is cosmic
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May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
of which no heavenly body could compare
Within a room that shows me my breath, Hairs stand alert on awoken skin, My reddened eyes from last night's sin Cause a smile, spreading illusion of death; And through a double sheet of glass, The light to my left gifts a pleasant view, Vibrant colours cascade a wondrous hue, That no painting in renaissance could surpass, But does not last, and therefore, brings truth. Vines hang their arms over weak fences, Lovingly caressing with sweet tender kisses, Stretching toward the ground fingers uncouth. Tall trees reach for the stars throne, Gallantly they stand in the background, Alone, triumphant, and with silent sound Hold their course like soldiers home-grown. The industrial gloom weeps its ***** tear And stains the window, ‘t does bear the light Of broken branches; shining on a humble sight Which illumes nests that Nature loves dear. Birds build no foundation, while frosts breath Engulfs the air, and smoke dances seductively With heavy swirling mist, swaying her glee, Hand in hand guides with him cancerous death. Filthy sheep reside on the muddy fields, Beneath blankets of the olde English cloud, Hovering above cemented land over-ploughed; Those show very well what modern age yields. No rain, no subtle cry from heaven. Long gone in retreat the grass of years past; Sailing away over the horizon the ships mast Which traverses the wild unknown region. No flecks of blue glimmer in the sky; Nor orb of fiery sun can be gazed upon. Did the morning gift Auroras dim saffron? Did it conspire and bring dullness to my eye? Departed too have the scented flowers; Even fruit hides away from their cradle, No foliage, no bramble, laurel or myrtle, All disappeared from ever shady bowers. Honey is not made today, sulking are the bees, And their cousins, shy-adventure disperses desire. Evergreens remain, remain with adamant attire, While their foes strip away naked their leaves.
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Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 8:16 AM UTC
Within a room that shows me
Within a room that shows me my breath, Hairs stand alert on awoken skin, My reddened eyes from last night's sin Cause a smile, spreading illusion of death; And through a double sheet of glass, The light to my left gifts a pleasant view, Vibrant colours cascade a wondrous hue, That no painting in renaissance could surpass, But does not last, and therefore, brings truth. Vines hang their arms over weak fences, Lovingly caressing with sweet tender kisses, Stretching toward the ground fingers uncouth. Tall trees reach for the stars throne, Gallantly they stand in the background, Alone, triumphant, and with silent sound Hold their course like soldiers home-grown. The industrial gloom weeps its ***** tear And stains the window, ‘t does bear the light Of broken branches; shining on a humble sight Which illumes nests that Nature loves dear. Birds build no foundation, while frosts breath Engulfs the air, and smoke dances seductively With heavy swirling mist, swaying her glee, Hand in hand guides with him cancerous death. Filthy sheep reside on the muddy fields, Beneath blankets of the olde English cloud, Hovering above cemented land over-ploughed; Those show very well what modern age yields. No rain, no subtle cry from heaven. Long gone in retreat the grass of years past; Sailing away over the horizon the ships mast Which traverses the wild unknown region. No flecks of blue glimmer in the sky; Nor orb of fiery sun can be gazed upon. Did the morning gift Auroras dim saffron? Did it conspire and bring dullness to my eye? Departed too have the scented flowers; Even fruit hides away from their cradle, No foliage, no bramble, laurel or myrtle, All disappeared from ever shady bowers. Honey is not made today, sulking are the bees, And their cousins, shy-adventure disperses desire. Evergreens remain, remain with adamant attire, While their foes strip away naked their leaves.
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44
if the clock says eight-thirty-ache       or twenty-two tears to nine expired would you believe ? if my love begins with a r-u there within my rhyme , r-you ? I agonize sunrise-sets I galvanize my felling in crystalline halos and auroras of dazzling magnetic lights enveloping my love for you
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
What Time Is It My Love
Like standing on the peak of a mountain range during a lightning storm with my eyes closed, I am sending myself as a beacon out to you. With blueberry tinted fingers you touch my face, soft as the sunset mist, and leave bruise colored echoes across my skin, I am running, skipping my body across the darkening soil like a stone, spinning my way past the orange fungi adorned trees after you, Can’t you feel the swirling hurricane of desire in my chest when we press close, the way my body settles like cooling lava around you when we intertwine, I cannot help but to be shaped by you. All around us the auroras waltz and curtsy, the moss cloaked rocks pulsate with earth's breath, the lightning strikes. I open my eyes, and you are gone.
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Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 4:45 PM UTC
Blueberries
I admit I am pathetically in love with you Frightful it might be irrevocable Girl pining away for someone whom she's invisible to The oldest story in the book I pale in comparison to all the others I know, I get it Not aesthetically gifted Perhaps if you had taken a peek into my soul You'd have found how stunning it is I grow more delusional by the day envisioning how your hazels would sparkle When halation encircles you in auroras fluorescence I am wrecking my brain Trying to sound profound Words splattered on a page are all I have to offer sometimes Verbalisation fails me I suppose I'll have to be content with this unembellished declaration ( which you will never see) It feels organic anyway I am plucking all this from the bottom of my heart As I force these feelings to wither away I attempt to convince myself that this was just perhaps an inflated crush I am saddened by thoughts of what could have been It burns The catalyst I need to move on is my acceptance of the fact that even though we live under the same sun the problem is, it doesn't cast the same shadow
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
Unrequited
A small step A giant leap with Chirps and tweeps Tween Houston and there Playing on the RCA Console color TV In the living room When I was eleven Something stirring In my pre-adolescent soul An ache; a yearning Still with me now Every launch since Plumes of vapor and smoke Lifting humans that Challenge mortality Every view of this blue mote Seen from afar dazzles me Earth rise from the moon Dancing auroras from ISS I could see the Milky Way there Lucky rural boy I was I can see the Milky Way here Lucky rural man I am I want us to go I want us to know I want us to yearn To learn “Are we alone?” A kid then, adult now I want to remove my glasses As Cronkite did then When we set foot on Mars
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
7/20/69
The alarm interrupted my sleep with the urgency of lust or sudden inheritance - only to end up being neither. “Alexa, good morning,” I say, as I stretch. My room lights illuminate - in red mode - like a submarine lit for night routine and my Keurig springs to life. How could someone living my dull, slow, academic life be so walking-dead tired in the morning? After all I got - trying to focus on my tiny Apple watch - 4 hours sleep. I rubbed my dry eyes and auroras traveled across my lids. When I pull open my drapes, all I see is a waning moon suggesting light to a dark world. I step around abandoned clothes, lying where they fell like soldiers. Aggk! I recoil when I see a three-day-old corpse in the mirror. Ugh, gross, I fell asleep wearing my ****** detox mask. My clock reads 5:40am. I whisper to my AI, “Alexa, what’s today’s forecast?” “Currently, It’s 21°, today will be sunny with a high of 27°” she whispers back. In a moment of non assignment related forethought, while tooth brushing, I strip my pillowcase, tossing it on a pile of ***** clothes next to the full hamper of equally ***** clothes. MattyBRaps begins throbbing “Little Bit” in the room next door. That means Leong’s awake - she’s obsessed with a 15 year old boy-singer on Youtube. I wiggle into my spandex, grab my iPad and water bottle, then head down to the basement gym. I can replay my chemistry class while walking on the treadmill. Good morning.
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Feb 9, 2022
Feb 9, 2022 at 6:00 AM UTC
morning routines
9 times turning those cellophane pages, looking for a little sliver of comfort in between the lines of "thou shall not's"; 8 years old when receiving my first condemnation to hell; 7 nights spent wondering what will happen to my soul while the molecules of my ashes find themselves stuck to the walls of hospitals and picnic benches and gas leaks on gleaming wet streets; 6 times I stared at a kaleidoscope of holy colors and listened to the words tumbling out of the pastor’s mouth like children playing sharks and minnows -- but couldn't hear; 5 times the hymns of love rang out in the steeple, and 5 times that warmth and love was able to seep through the pores of everyone, but me; 4 pairs of hands and faces turned upwards, smiling, like a child running to meet its father in an airport; 3 moments I watched salty tears drip from closed eyes, merciful mouths moving, grateful to be accepted, grateful to be saved, bodies swaying and auroras mixing in a mess of hues; 2 times I willed the chills of spirits to roll down my spine and fill my mind with the answers I can't seem to find; 1 God I am told to put my trust in; 0 times I believed.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:49 PM UTC
say the word, and you'll be free
So frivolous that this exists within a Lack of being, The ebb and flow of Death influx, The cause of void in pulse, but, Nonetheless, Life hosts in essence, in absence, In ephemeral disguises compiling like Waves in the ocean, Like pomegranate seeds in hands, Like the letter C in the mind, [A comedy] .Perpetual. And yet we are, And yet I am, And yet you is, [A complex] The "primordial" surrogate of truth: The sun in a raisin, Shriveled and compacted because The grape was in the son of Woman and man [A tragedy] But still, with her eyes on horizons, The blue woman remains in essence   While the red man remains in absence: *Lack of sunrises Lack of sunsets Lack of quiet nights* But the ebb and flow as parables as memoirs Appease the quiet war between the Quiet soul's erosion and the Ancestral swig of heresy, tonics that Drip sporadic hesitation, An emotion [A concoction] .Purple. This is my body Information becomes info This is my blood Influence the chaos With ripened moons and fluorescent suns The poetry as Mother Tongue As Mother Nature As existence As a lack of dark meaning [A feeling] ["Give them what they lacked"] The songs of ecclesiastics Everything is meaningless Until My hands My hands My hands Are Reincarnated within the Auroras of Autumn, Within the auras of Winter, Within Within The Ebb and Flow of Death bearing the new. [A time][A place] Father's Time Father's End As anecdotes As joyful mysteries . Suppose the mirror reflects it all As found and "uncharred"
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Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 1:05 AM UTC
Ebb and Flow.
So frivolous that this exists within a Lack of being, The ebb and flow of Death influx, The cause of void in pulse, but, Nonetheless, Life hosts in essence, in absence, In ephemeral disguises compiling like Waves in the ocean, Like pomegranate seeds in hands, Like the letter C in the mind, [A comedy] .Perpetual. And yet we are, And yet I am, And yet you is, [A complex] The "primordial" surrogate of truth: The sun in a raisin, Shriveled and compacted because The grape was in the son of Woman and man [A tragedy] But still, with her eyes on horizons, The blue woman remains in essence   While the red man remains in absence: *Lack of sunrises Lack of sunsets Lack of quiet nights* But the ebb and flow as parables as memoirs Appease the quiet war between the Quiet soul's erosion and the Ancestral swig of heresy, tonics that Drip sporadic hesitation, An emotion [A concoction] .Purple. This is my body Information becomes info This is my blood Influence the chaos With ripened moons and fluorescent suns The poetry as Mother Tongue As Mother Nature As existence As a lack of dark meaning [A feeling] ["Give them what they lacked"] The songs of ecclesiastics Everything is meaningless Until My hands My hands My hands Are Reincarnated within the Auroras of Autumn, Within the auras of Winter, Within Within The Ebb and Flow of Death bearing the new. [A time][A place] Father's Time Father's End As anecdotes As joyful mysteries . Suppose the mirror reflects it all As found and "uncharred"
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69
It's just 4:00 a.m. I am alone in the balcony Cold wind giving therapy to my face.. Nature showing its solace. And i ... Standing still Breathing fast.. Breaking the chaos and auroras of past .. It's just 4:00 a.m. Clouds are heavy .. My hands aquiver .. Sky being navy .. Though tenebrific.. Birds sounding nice.. It's just 4:00 a.m. And i am able to enjoy my own company.. See how far the moon is And indicating me it's bravery.. I wonder how lonely it would be last night .. but hushing everyone to sleep more .. It's 4:00 a.m. now and see i am appreciating it  and both of us have found the company
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Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
It's 4 a.m.