Vividly hear thee whispers upon the edge of sleepless night.
Ancient voices of despair released from harrowed tombs.
Embracing my very soul with a rhythm of mothers care,
counting me as a Blessing in the bosom of eternal life.
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Did truth's grit beneath old rocks shed the darkest and thickest tears? Magnificent. I imagined this was about someone returning in triumph after undergoing some kind of metamorphosis...
Melvina you have written your poem in a way quite bold this story I will need more time to unfold