If I could hide you in my palms –
From sirens, from pain, from smoke and dreams…
I would weave a night from calm abysses,
So that you would finally hear: this world is still alive.
Like a petal, oblivion would fall upon your eyelashes,
And this darkness would no longer frighten you.
For someone who guards you in this chaos
Is forging a path through fear and mist.
The World Is Still Alive
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