Nightingales sing,
Forget-Me-Nots bloom,
I believe I shall bloom once again,
With fragrance unknown,
Colors unseen and
Contentment unfelt.
Faith misses its beats,
Mingling its rhythm with unseen hobgoblins!
Why on earth is not a place,
Where a lone being shall be willing to....Surrender?
Bewildering are the little joys,
But nightmares are its mighty griefs!
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