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My Dimlit Sun
In this quiet room, the light leans soft,
A faded sunbeam through the window’s croft.
Not quite day, not fully night,
Caught between shadows and gentle light.
A bulb hangs low, a muted sun,
Casting warmth, but softly spun.
Not harsh, not bright, just in between,
A quiet glow, a gentle sheen.
In its light, the room exhales,
Wrapped in whispers, soft details.
A lonely star inside these walls,
That hums and soothes as evening falls.
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