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Rites of whales

Void worlds wrung are weeping
Their wheels have whimpered away
Wound around a wristwatch in a skyless watcher’s eyes
Weaved in webs of woes
Closed by sorrow killed

Sealing stolen seals
Ill fire flames smitten by the breath
Writing rites of whales
Splash beauty unwritten
Passages of time turn urns into hours
No pallid pills for piligrims paving their own paths
Swimming soulful oceans that soar up to the sky
©Miroslava Odalovic

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