[ dark oven ]A Poem by winter;lyra
dark oven
putrid desert of a dream drunk walk to the wake alarm alerted of my lack of trust, i appear the kind of man to let things pass by lamb to my thoughts censorship is required to make it back when i miss more than bodily relief discrete i weep discreetly and count the sand at the feet of my death © 2019 winter;lyra |
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Added on February 24, 2019 Last Updated on February 24, 2019 Author
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