Everything turns to gold when it meets your touch
Because the voices only eat you at night
The past is blurred
If we could build our way to heaven out of tears, we would climb up
There are feathers everywhere
Must be a sin
Don't fall out of embellish
They'll get you
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YOU ARE READING
SOKRATISK TRAGEDI
Poetry❝SOKRATIS TRAGODIA❞ Dessa är de sokratiska tragedierna om hur vi inte kan fly från den skyhöga fasad av rädsla vi skapat.
