Daniel Richards (09-11-1982 / London, England)
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Until That Hour Chimed And The Final Day Was Over
In the dark of the night, I hear you softly whisper my name
Echoes flow like a breeze through my forest of disease
Seprated by miles of time but yet your still feeling the same
Like a stream down a mountain side, the memories never fall still
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Hits & posts of the poem: Until That Hour Chimed And The Final Day Was Over
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