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The Fleeting Moments

"At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poem." – certainly not by Plato

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Tag: sadness

* Static *

Afternoon has been static,
Particles frozen, in the glance of existence.
Fly makes no sound,
Sunbeam cease to defuse.
So terrifying
As if no future is coming,
That universe is the end itself,
without ending.

William C Literature, Poem, poetry Leave a comment June 25, 2019 1 Minute
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