Those crooked unstructured words,
Bound together by pure nickel
Sing in your eyes.
Shine in the darkness
Of a silent poem called 'night'.
Broken strings mend,
And the lines dance,
On tree-tops, in a breezy lullaby.
They discover a home
In the distant whispering sparks.
Sparks carrying love notes
And flying into the open skies,
Writing a lyric,
A sonnet, an epic
Of a million fireflies in rhyme.
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