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by Rania Moallem
Music perished into dust
as I paused for a moment...
I slip quietly from conversations
to taste the lonely air outside...
You’ve spent summers
in servitude, hearing only...
by Ben Pickard
A confession: I have stopped writing my diary.
Why immortalise yesterday's noisy monsters...
by Meena Krish
Death of silence heavy
Eternity nears, second ticking...
by Poet on the Piano
Summer always spelled out secrets;
I almost suffocated, convinced that I must...