But The Past, Like A Shadow, Still Clings To My Breath,

But the past, like a shadow, still clings to my breath,

A ghost in the silence, a dream beyond death.

Oh, to drift like the mist in the cold morning light,

To forget, to forget… and dissolve in the night.

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poetry nostalgia vahan teryan

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lusnediv - somnolence
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somnolence

celestial body · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ancient soul

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