Under the fog,
fallen memories are hidden,
an encapsulated sun who never shines,
and maybe twelve hours each night, dying.
Avoiding our eyes,
hordes of fireflies run scared.
They dont trust anymore in men.
Once devoured,
every living part of this land
without any fragment of anger,
will go to the limbo
to give an immaculate tribute.
There will be nothing
for remember,
nothing,
except this fog.
* * *
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