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Saddlesore

It seems only yesterday we were fine

How I yearned for the feel of your mouth

Your every touch would set me on fire

Whether north west east or south

 

The sight of smoke on the horizon

Haunts me now when I look back

For it was over yonder hill we flourished

Before my thoughts turned so black

 

That  dark column taunts my tortured eyes

Acrid embers still fly off in ...

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