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Fresh streams, Tainted Depths

Stagnant

Like rainwater sitting out for days,

Attracting flies,

Like moths to a flame.

Serving no meaningful purpose,

So we remain

Unfulfilled—

Nothing’s changed.

Entrapped

In a recurring cycle,

Appearing to be renewed

As more rainwater starts to fall.

 

But new drops only meet the surface,

Clean merging with the murk below,

Clear streams swallowed by t...

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