They fly in,
blinding white
pure
simple,
time passes
dusk comes
what was white,
becomes grey.
the story slows,
the end,
it looms
closer,
however,
the
memories,
of those,
white wings,
that singing chorus,
the love,
the passion.
Desire
confusion
take place,
what once was
is no more
only darkness
loneliness,
sadness.
Yet a light,
looms,
far in the distance,
is it hope?
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