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Thunderstorm's Silent Song

darkness is darkest beyond the wan street lights, and yet the rain still falls through it; with every gust, the acacia trembles, sways its branches imploringly, its leaves torn down, strewn on the puddles below. his fingertips ache and falter on the guitar frets, but his head sings on and on: "maybe the old song can bring back the old times," as torn pieces of the card she sent him drift about in the puddles below.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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