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That service wasn't set about you

some other characters took the main role you are were as important as the dust in which fire converted the flesh that used to cloak your soul but you'll become a tree they're transmuted in a pillar of shame (hope their conscience will whip them daily) all the time there was a smile upon my face (know how you loved to laugh) only in that second when your name emerge out of that river of worn out words the iris become a lake and the sight brought forward the vision of you simultaneously painful and healing I'll wear you as the Holter monitor

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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