||Poem#17 Photophile||

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Photophile

His own polaroid of thoughts were engraving the plain and dark sides of it
He lives his life a secret, and in a skinny, narrow like-cemetry place - was him. Standing alone.
People didnt even know he was existing
But yes. He was existing in other people's nightmares and scary dreams.

He was called dementor
Others would say he casted a spell on himself
But if was asked, he just turned his woes and walk away.
It seems, the spell wasnt meant to be in his.
But for the hungry dragons and beuatiful butterflied tangled in his head.
He was obliviated.

The days had passed but there were no days on his darkest nights.
But a girl who's name is Aurora bits his milky way in the corner.

And they collided together.
They build each other's tower
They count every moments drop
And conquer everything to the top

Aurora was a little light to him indeed.
It enriched him with honey
That transcends to the bottom of his heart outside.
His own polaroid outdo the obscurity
--- for aurora was the light in his life that came to give back everything the darkness stole

 His own polaroid outdo the obscurity--- for aurora was the light in his life that came to give back everything the darkness stole

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