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Desolate Room

A winsome waxing crescent, With a dangling sonata pathétique. In my hollow room, sweet flashes of a floral essence. Her presence is absent and my feeble heart is becoming more weak A precious diamond was found but is now lost. Asunder is this rare jewel, Only my heaving heart can weigh the cost. Now, here I sit in my desolate room.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things