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Finally it comes
In waves of pill wrecked anxiety
I try to see another path
An alterior motive
So we've tried to dig deep
But the water is draining from the lake
And the fire is burning on her surface

◄ Acirema Tales

Burn white sage in every corner ►


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Sun 20th Oct 2019 18:22

Stirs up images and shadows of almost grasped hope. That bicycle is a whole poem in itself. Thanks

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