An unbearable ache descends upon the soul,
like a drifting shroud that wraps it whole
as the wind enfolds the blossom of spring,
tossing it
until it is torn away
from its tender
warmth of home.
ยฉ2026, Vasiliki Papadopoulou

An unbearable ache descends upon the soul,
like a drifting shroud that wraps it whole
as the wind enfolds the blossom of spring,
tossing it
until it is torn away
from its tender
warmth of home.
ยฉ2026, Vasiliki Papadopoulou

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