《it's archaic》what our souls are made of | آغاز

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𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇 :

☾ a rustic array of verses that whisper themselves through the centuries,

and into the shallow depths of my heart. i will write until the sun meets the moon, i will write until

the poet dies too soon.

☾︎ the swords i wield get stronger

with every scar on my skin.

beware, i may very well win.

-m.

𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 :

☾︎ to those people who in the midst of laughter and familiar faces,

feel secluded and desolated.

this one is for all of us.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂 :

scathing Saturn rings

or so Celestia says

treacherous with thought

layla

deadlier dreams

handsome boys

darling

moonrise

tripwire trail of tragic grief

blue mountains

white daisies

dear ma

the last days

the wind falls on sumer's misery

a candlelight vigilant

tragedies and escapades

dear you

ocean skips a heartbeat

'tis the frost

message in a bottle

jungle cries

before i know it

sky as mine

the thirteenth day of october

a late sunday

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

:

the '☾︎' moon symbol depicts different verses in the poem, among which there will be parts for emphasis on different themes in one verse— but consider it as one only.

(in other words, the number of moons depict the number of verses i intended for the poem, and the parts in each verse are for emphasis on different themes).

𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 :

☾︎ all the work in this book is the rightful property of the author. all translations, distributions, useage, replications, reproductions, and everything with similar aims and objectives is for commercial and non-commercial uses. kindly ahere to this principle.

so, write your own stuff :).

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