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The Journey

Nineteen eighty six, seventeen years of age this lost young child ? Standing amid the shadows afore an empty looking glass; in silhouettes Dawn these streams and light through a lonely window; silence, silver blade Razors edge piercing their flesh tears; blood trickling then pouring from the corners.. Hopeless wishing begging tortured eyes; a season in somber this beginning as, reasons.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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