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Alone and WearyIt's not one of the blues but merely physical dues feeling so weak and exhausted a typical cycle of humans indeed. Watching a lighted candle dying flickering, dancing and tears falling soft wind blowing and challenging if how long can its light sustain. It's glow sometimes slyly fading humbled by wind condescending as it comes back to life unwavering a brilliant shine brings hope a meaning. Closing access of wind to come in brightens the dark room by the light within the flame steady and no longer enduring until it dies, no more tears, and stops breathing. *Pinky* Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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