There, mouths move silently, where sound should be strewn
Faintest whispers lost, dying on a dry wind before caught
Missing whats gone, wishing for reprieve, melody I saught
Only punishment received. Curse the luck of the fates loom
Dying dream of the foolish girl, embrace the exhausting silence
Her sound not used, since not heard, traversing to mute
Segregated from sound the lonely quiet girl blows the flute
Of her silent life, the melody lost before its had, before it's had in terrible silence
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