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A lie it is that distance from the individually dead and their doctrines brings pain
Let a new life spring in a land dressed in winter
far from their illusions
Colton Clark Mar 21
Eyes, the windows to the soul
Face, the curtain
Colton Clark Mar 17
Willows wilt weeping with
rain felt against bare skin
Beneath it's layer of shade
as it too lay beneath clouds
Colton Clark Mar 15
A masterpiece never tells itself it is one
It remains silent like a painting
Colton Clark Mar 15
None on earth are gods of men
Worshipping themselves
Fools to the end
Colton Clark Mar 11
Dreams clothed in tattered vestures of time
Long since left behind a shrouded veil
Born to rot six feet under
Move along
Colton Clark Mar 6
The mirror they covered
Pain they've infected themselves with
Pulling back the curtain for them to see
Reflecting with more ugliness than before
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