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  • Writer's pictureLaura Grá

By my Throth

O'er the realms of forgotten dreams,

A Moonflower I was, lost in my soul,

Never be I what it seems,

Only a spark into unknown.

For deep inside, into my core,

I die and live so many times,

Stepping through my mind door,

When inner eye in shadows shines.

Crafting new worlds of solitudes,

In hidden and unspoken lines,

Beheld in cups of fortitude,

Dreaming of hope that never dies.

In filigree, my sorrows grow,

Upon a sky of bitterness,

Ablaze, the light of what I know

Meets love in her last caress.

And bright she was, like nothing else,

Thus, shivers I do feel,

Aloof, my pain does start to dance,

I do know I am real.

For when I love

My heart is full and never out of sight,

Albeit it goes straight to the Moon,

It's buried deep inside.

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