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Fear

In the dark she composes, Bleek from the mind's whispers. An image in comprehension Cohabiting with the soul's rhythm masking a vocal, So oddly high in pitch, yet a whisper When voiced. Yet at that the cranium watches As enquiries linger at the tip Of her cebrum, for thee Who's not ready for quest shall swim In a cage of self doubt.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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