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The night is over

Seems it's a pink fresh morn

and a cool breeze gently touching

and alluring the spirit, 

raising it high in great hope.

 

A bright ray slipped in through 

a yellow curtain of my window

resting calmly upon bare forehead;

warmth of a blessed childhood.

 

The cosy memories of past,

once again, riding upon in ecstasy

the jocund tides of emotions 

rapturing in the...

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