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The rude clip of Spring and it's gaggle of chirping frogs gloat in the amiable parish of poesies and greening lawns. Yawning daylight; scrapes away at the bleak - features of Evening ... and coursing through the veins - of every swan... a Ballet. At night, the fog is lifted ironically. by two numb hands. as two eyes peer into the heavenly to hear it speak it's astronomy... down Down where we crawl for stars of our own... dredging hope from dead wellsprings. and plundering moons... All Day.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
Summer Has No Star
The rude clip of Spring and it's gaggle of chirping frogs gloat in the amiable parish of poesies and greening lawns. Yawning daylight; scrapes away at the bleak - features of Evening ... and coursing through the veins - of every swan... a Ballet. At night, the fog is lifted ironically. by two numb hands. as two eyes peer into the heavenly to hear it speak it's astronomy... down Down where we crawl for stars of our own... dredging hope from dead wellsprings. and plundering moons... All Day.
third-eye-candy
Written by
M/American
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
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