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Nov 21, 2024
I woke up clutching the dreams in deluge of tears. Night had a brackish taste, the other side of moon was dark.
One by one the stars were dying ideas were no longer candles in gale. The final thought of liberation demanded a tribute to partners in revolt.
I wanted a sunlit corner in the blighted sky of hopes. Instead of scorched impulse of a mob injured truth, walking alone.
Give me a bitter fruit of certainty. I don’t want to loose myself in fogs. The truth must meet the lie- alone, in woods of craft.
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