Reflections of time long past
Droplets of sand in a dessert sea
Blackness awakens the nightbird
She hears the wind calling out
Echoing memories of freedom
Feeling her true spirit call
Misty wails bellowing out over the horizon
Beckoning...beckoning...
She dreams of that feeling again
It’s weak but still there
That hazy poignant fragrance of selflessness
Smelling of death and peonies
Delicious, forbidden, foreboding
What does it mean?
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