the way it feels,
an ember burns,
the sky turns deep purple.
madness creeps,
an in-between look
through blinking tired eyes.
is this the way?
stitched together,
that which beats inside.
the way it feels,
an ember burns,
the sky turns deep purple.
madness creeps,
an in-between look
through blinking tired eyes.
is this the way?
stitched together,
that which beats inside.
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