• Carolin Rechberg

The foul turn into fruit

I was ones caught in a storm which tore my heart

Which was already worn

Shivering stickiness

Of hardships experienced in loneliness

Yes reflected in the journeys of each others souls

But yet alone forlorn

Rifting in the destined drift

Carrying us and being made to carry by us. The fruitful turned into the foul if fought in the current of how life evolves

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