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Category: Architecture Sub Category: Details |
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all my dreams
they die on me
and I don't think
there's ever healing it
the days grow long
filled with empty hours
when I wake up alone
with these shadows as my only company
splinters of glass at my feet
silence in her white dress
like dust on books no-one reads
and beds no-one sleeps in anymore
(speechless nameless sleepless alone)
"...the fog is rising"
[Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)]
-as used by "Rapture" 2003 |
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