Us nomads(poem):

Flute

 

I am a flute suspended at a fine thread

At a branch beyond the roots of my ideals

Concealed in an obscured retreat

Except from the strayed sparkles of force

Preserved in an equivocal zephyr

Reanimated from nothingness once again

I chant their impact with innovation

For I have only perceived existence

So long as we both hear

 

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