And the whirring sirens flare in her ears
As the final blow
And it is done.
-a.h.
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whirring | 1
Poetry❝Hope is the thing with feathers that perches into the soul - and sings tunes without words - and never stops at all.❞ [welcome to whirring act one. this is the first installment of my personal poetry. these writings are so near and dear to my heart...
done
And the whirring sirens flare in her ears
As the final blow
And it is done.
-a.h.
