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When the ink of my soul runs dry
Sometimes, when the ink of my soul runs dry,
when my heart is too hurt to sing, the words too painful to be said,
then the silence is my voice, the blue sky my hope,
the ocean is my tear,
the stars are my dreams,
the flowers my smile, and the birds my freedom.
Your Peace overflows.
The beauty of each day overwhelms me.
poem
by
Marius Alexandru
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