perhaps the angels stole away something from the core of the blues,
and hid it in the darkened craters of the moon
and now whenever they're both scarcely near,
the waves wail and rise; striving to seize back their most deared
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Throes of Spring ✔️
Poetry[FEATURED] godhood is just like girlhood: a begging to be believed
day 12> wailing waves
perhaps the angels stole away something from the core of the blues,
and hid it in the darkened craters of the moon
and now whenever they're both scarcely near,
the waves wail and rise; striving to seize back their most deared