𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠.
By Carl H. Gregory
In the quiet hour when day meets night,
I wander through a grove bathed in fading light.
Leaves murmur softly with secrets untold,
Echoes of moments in memories old.
Continued Here:
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By Carl H. Gregory
In the quiet hour when day meets night,
I wander through a grove bathed in fading light.
Leaves murmur softly with secrets untold,
Echoes of moments in memories old.
Continued Here:
www.facebook.com/share/p/1Aag...