At MOA |
The sun is setting. The day is over. But hidden conflicts are still there. Hurts and words stabbed were left unhealed. Never-ending exchange of pride and prejudices. Oh setting sun, please let the darkness come and let all miseries be gone. All the things true to be, once and for all, revealed. Why does this setting sun makes me oh so down? As it sets down, I whimper.
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