There are things that flourish.
In the right place things grow.
Prefect settings produce strength.
Even darkness grows
In great doubt flourishes.
Clawing at the psyche
Chewing on the known
Tiny voices sing in choirs
The notes flat and low
Skin crawls and ears hurt.
The music continues.
Misery flourishes
It demands we share.
It extends our claws
Gives us chance to release
Once it passes then we can flourish
Lovely , simply liked it
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Many thanks. I like play on that line of light and darkness.
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