Night has a different sense to me,
because I talk to myself then.
Numerous nights mirror my
pain, my melted rigid cliffs.
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Night has a different sense to me, because I talk to myself then. Numerous nights mirror my pain, my melted rigid cliffs. No blockage I find between the two roads in darkness. a mellow of a soft soul makes love to light and its shades
Night holds its own mysteries. Sometimes one can travel to distant shores, and listen to foreign songs lovely write
Night holds its own mysteries. Sometimes one can travel to distant shores, and listen to foreign songs lovely write
The division between the day and night marks our thoughts clear and vivid As we close our lips and open our brain To see the full throughout of our wishes
beautiful poem with great message artistic thank you