Voice Sans Choice
Do you now hear
The music strains
My precious dear
That speak most plain.
Faint echoes hint
To cast a spell
With primal mint
As if to tell.
Wind-blown murmurs
Lift the cold air,
Chilly tremours
In quaint affair.
Watch curtains fall
In empty hall.
Leon Enriquez
30 July 2014
Singapore
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