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There is a place azure, above the earth.
A garden of green asylum
where pass away the pains.
A place where only the breath remains alive.
I am going to draw from it for the soul a little salutary water.
And refresh on my face tarnished
O soft poetry, your words!
I am your servant.
By your fervent breath
the troubles fade now.
Your Universe so revives
My somber décor!
2016 ~ © M2L – Manache Poetry