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Temporal, transient
Strong winds blow
These weak trees bent
No permanence
Mere leaves floating on this river
The steady gushing, a false comfort
As in this pale moonlight, I shiver
An evanescent ray
Of sunlight escaping into
The darkness at the end of the day
I wish I had
That love which lasts
A slow exaggerated motion
In a blurry world, moving fast

One Comment

  1. Reblogged this on The Little Black Book.

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