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View User's Journal

Collection of works
I am he
Unto the forces where we beckon when it began.
I fail to understand
Under the shadow of a tree, bleeding into a colony of ants.
I wont return
For this wasteland will never understand my sorrow's.
And the raven's cry
Will echo through my mind, and mimic loneliness.
I have been told
That I am a rough diamond, In a clean cut world.
When you see me
Be wearing black, and take the load off the pall bearer's back.





 
 
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