Standing on the edge of that ending summer ~ I’m hearing the sound of melting walls, windows and doors ~ they are flocking on the floor as streams ~ and I'm loosing the dark corners of my senses ~ I just need to be into the core of the silence ~ plenty of memories that breaking the waves ~ and melt everything till drops ~ and what I should do with this drops of waves~ I don’t know yet ~ hoping that the darkest angle will show me ~ sometime ~ when I have it again ~~~
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