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Terminus Sam Shing
When dinning thunder rolled into madness,
Among the flowers and the wind of spring,
Your lost soul was embedded in sadness
To walk right to the Terminus Sam Shing.
With white clothes and lost thoughts, you were alone,
In aftertime, for thinking to your choice.
With dropping tears, I'm much more like a stone.
I would have singing, but I had no voice.
You didn't try to live your dreams with me.
Your agony meant shivers from black hole,
Your sad soul never wanted to be free,
You're the destroyer of your proper soul.
poem
by
Marieta Maglas
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