My Sky

Nipped, shadows tell of a silent form, in a dance they form a bud, from which light is drawn. Spoken, my silence is met by the wind outside, a union that thrives between my heart and the sky.

Bespoken, the winds tell of a song, in cadence they form a verse, from which sweetness is known. Freed, nature is met by a longing inside, a union that thrives between the heart and my sky.

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