09:11 in the morning,
gray, overcast, misty day.
But there are people
under thicker shrouds
whose eyes see nothing
which faced the same
sunset than mine,
the worthy dead,
the steadfast
and the afraid,
whose lives were stolen
and who would have
given anything
to see those clouds,
this mist, to breath
the chill air.
29.03.2025
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