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some would talk about your wings and you could think of other things diversion from the pain it brings the days of old and conquered kings while others laugh about your plight your stolen dreams and stolen might plucked from you about midflight a scolded vision in the night still they speak like you were dead or decomposing in your bed it does not matter what is said yet Someone speaks whose blood was shed: the time has come for you to rise to fly again among the skies to rid your lungs of desperate sighs to say goodbye to your goodbyes Jfw
2018-10-12 04:47:28
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وردةٌ قبِيحة
و مَا الّذي يجعلُ مصطلحُ الوردة قبِيحة؟ -مَا الّذي تنتظرهُ من وردةٍ واجهت ريَاح عاتية ؛ وتُربة قَاحلة و بتلَاتٍ منهَا قَد ترَاخت أرضًا ، مَا الّذي ستصبحهُ برأيك؟
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Why?
I was alone. I am alone. I will be alone. But why People always lie? I can't hear it Every time! And then They try to come Back. And i Don't understand it. Why?
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