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The Answer

The eerie air, screaming voices unheard
The sharp piercing eyes, heavy with question
Waiting for my tongue to carve an answer

A wailing abyss
Not the breeze of gloaming
Not the wrathful torrents of the ocean

Not the treacle of the heavens
Not the humble blood of earth

Neither the sweet cry of a nightingale
Nor the thunderous roar of a hurt lioness

But only those pursed lips could fill.  

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