Hope and its various
disembodiments,
Terraced upon a grove
of grey-maroon
Tonsils, connect the
innuendoes of jasmine
And lavender to the
uncommon shrills fostered
Beneath old basins
once familiar to mill-bred granules
That had long since
forgotten the joy of wind born free.
Below the sky there
are many reprehensible tales to be found.
Unfortunately, the search is much easier than the rescue.
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