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Jan 2019
The dull grass holds more then you might be thinking
The hills hide secrets and the cogs are spinning
A hidden a city under the ground
None of the brainless can hear it’s sound
Come see my grand imagination
Even death is seen as pretty
No wait it’s not twisted, stay with me
My world of thoughts are waiting and you hold the key
Beyond the gate, a golden city.
Folie
Written by
Folie
128
 
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