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In a world bejeweled with tainted trinkets, and feigned flowers, we follow the wailing waves below whirling wind, like secluded silhouettes, stranded on the cusp of chaos, unable to find the sparkling streak of hyacinth hope- between dusk and dawn. Perhaps there is a reason why I stopped rewriting runes with cashmere conclusions, as I’ve long been dreaming of dahlias, on weathered willows, oblivious to the dancing rays of rising sun swiftly cascading like caramel confetti. I am like the sleepless ocean, letting the fleeting phases of bewitching moon lure floating sapphires; pushing and pulling my insomniac tides with turquoise triggers, as the inner-child continues to sail through tumultuous seas, healing from the trauma I’ve been fed, concocted with raspberry ruins, from silver spoons, on dulcet trays. I’ve tasted poison in the fruitiest of cocktails, although the flavors of life remain a mystery within a fickle game of chess, incomplete and unattainable. I search for a sanctuary where peace lilies sprout, beneath the eclipsed horizon, blindfolding my third eye, as I waltz through astral spheres to reach an elysian dimension. Amidst unanswered questions hanging like unsolvable equations, for all that I’ve believed was but a myth concealed in illusory amulets, bruising my inner psyche, preventing me from seeing beyond. Yet the morning sky convinces me to reconsider and realign, as the whimsical breeze whispers in a soft cadence: the Universe is infinite, so am I. This pink granite heart is as vast as the spring-hills with deepest of falls, prevailing traces of my silenced voice. And when mauve clouds kissed my frail fingers, I remembered how stars do not need our touch, to unravel fate laced in citrine dust, Like how I breathe- lavender love, within me, leaving no blood in my veins but poetry- flowing as the poem of pearlescent tomorrows, through thin sangria streams, in daisy dialects. So who am I~ but a mere dot on a faceless canvas, an echo of your rosy rhymes, an incomplete verse with complex metaphors, weaving woes in sunflower silence..
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