I’ve seen the stars of heaven rise,
Over blissful days like these,
Beneath the glowing glory shine,
They bring me bleeding to my knees.
Thorns and thistles win the day,
And all the parasites rejoice,
My blood flows through the mouths of they,
Whose deafening roar comes without voice.
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1 comment:
Maybe, but that was ten days ago. Now, weeds are hip.
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