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Monsoons shed by the suns on this canvas once young, though now withered as if to show the price paid for a gravity lost battle.

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Deep pools, ALAS, missing you so tears shed for losing you though cradling you would no sooner result in a distant but near loss of life, or is that just in my imagination.? I’d rather blame it on fright.

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Gaping holes in this blackened soul, oh my sweet love how did this ever become so.? Thus passion begins to grow in this darkness, tears shed refuse to be unshed, a heart that let love on , here we lie. Lesson learned, the mind takes over leading me away from a heart that yearns to once more cry.

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*** though beautiful to the eye, a blood moon is far from beautiful***

*AprilsLoveChild*

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