Gosh more calls after midnight
Shadow which looms, when night falls
A trace of salt, along the glass
Solitude cannot cure, the cuts so tall
Rub it all in, sharp not crass
Stay away, from the fire it burns
Yet primitive ones mastered the flames
When would it be at last a turn
Shadow how it can be tamed
1 Comments:
Hmmm....
And where are you now?
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