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The Constance of Sorrow

That year, sadness swiftly swept,
through the corridors of my soul.
Turbulent tears torrentially cold.

Yet finches and sparrows land songs,
deep inside my trembling marrow.

Hope is vulnerably bold.
The way its enigma unfolds.

With nature loose in my heart
I cannot feel the constance of sorrow.
Written by deliabear (Debbie)
Published
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