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Flown

Let the birds cry out
For I have flown,
Falling to the ground-
Hear the chilling of my wings
Frozen to the heart of
My breast- we
Fell heavily bereft-
And so don't pick me
Up but let us suffer
As one, the air is crisp
As the night is near,
And I will be gone-
Flown, flown home
Written by cunnias
Published
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