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Poetry Club

Black Dawn of Ink


Myouya

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Black Dawn of Ink

Art captured in a sheet of paper cannot be translated by anyone,

A drawing has an explicit meaning, and an implicit secret,

Your very pencil tells a story never told for fun,

A shape finds itself a name, in the depths of Egypt.

Thoughts and imagination merge into a creation of beauty,

As the sharp edge of the pen's blade leaves the bloody trail of void,

Light replenishes and fills with colour and joy,

Emotions were once more expressed instead of destroyed.

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