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Sunset to Nightmares
A bottle of gin for every sin
within lair of an evil twin
The likes of a flying kite,
away from gloom of this room.
September's never a rest
but eyes up another glass cup.
A bird's breasts trembling detests
the coldness of a night's icy test,
a tune meant for her is a noise blur
lost in the tavern and I can't have her.
Speedy lines mixed with coke and wine,
How you do, with morbidly such a tune,
If I wake up screaming, take me to the lake,
of peaceful seduction near the waterfalls.
Copyright ©
Ryan Geoffrey-Hayward
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