In the deafening silence,
Where words fail to describe,
Feelings get lost in the crowd,
Relying on a forged scribe.

Hollow pride advertised,
Humbling in its profundity,
Causing a universal slide,
Lies shifting the ground.

The lost are crowned,
The fools are found,
The wheel turning around


 

🌷(1)

◄ The hoarder

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