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In an abyss of thought
Suspended in half fluid
Half purple
Rippling over memories undisturbed
A bloom
Tainted by simplicity
Gnarled with quandary
Asphyxiating at the ends
Delicate, like a dream upon
Awakening
Born in devil’s own flight:
A zephyr
Gently caressing misery
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ali.asghar
I don't write for a cause; I write for meaning.
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