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Apr 2013
Show me your empty orchestra.

Of halls and walls,
the silent stalls.
Which separate and manipulate.
The magic. With the tragic.

Show me your tortured dreams
of all you deem, those sacred themes.
Of hate, of love.
Of the many worlds you write thereof.

Show me.
Make me salivate.
Over this empty space,
Of which you shall never, ever deface.
Jake Leader
Written by
Jake Leader  london
(london)   
650
   explorereality
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