Like a melting pearl in the dark sea,
Streaks of indigo and purple lace,
With a halo of glistening misty rings,
Silent are the leaves under the feet,
The wind does not wake them up,
It only whispers an old wistful story,
About a soul stretched thin with desire,
The woods are talking of it's yearning,
Not of loss of love but of loss of longing,
They say it's heart stopped beating,
They felt it seeking for hope in the darkness.
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