the twilight croaks with raven's call,
dozens shadows flittering across the dusk-y sky,
it pecks dreams like a riped longing, readily melting on tongue.
the roadside trees with their worn out gaze
pulling dust like old skin, whispers decay
its sweetness lost like the falling day.
soft sway of memories held tight,
untangle and drift like leaves in the breeze,
yet besides the ache, a sweet longing remains,
in the happenings of life, everything that falls,
again blooms back.
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