Blow the trumpet Let it not be dust in the wind, When I look back. Thou speak in clichés Fiddling with violin. How shalt thou appraise? Tears and smile. For astray eyes Are after, Trumpet it can blow out deafening. Shimmering lights, Enclosed the pastures. Lights born out of Papers will fade away. Search, struggle and shout It’s not over until I win.
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Showing posts from November, 2013