Your words, a double-edged sword,
Sometimes pierce like an arrow's chord,
Other times, they surface like a wound,
Leaving scars that forever resound.
Every step, like shifting sands,
I walked, veiled, with heart in hands,
Through your streets, where complaints did turn,
To hatred's form, and love did burn.
The whispers of our home's demise,
Scattered like leaves, with fading sighs,
I doubt your words,...
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