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Dec 2020
I am the gale of a storm
Pressed against your face
Rushing with hasty percussion
Then gone without a trace
A hailing siren's final resting place
What was seemingly a blessing
Now deceived and defaced
So easily forgotten
Already replaced

Hardly believed in
As if by mistake
The price of your faith
Fallen from grace

I leave no trace
But the remaining feeling
And with undue haste
You're set to reeling
Like a deep congealing festering wound
It's my reminiscent touch
That tortures you

But you can't recall the song
That's lost on the wind
Once it departs
To never return again
Written August 30th, 2020 after taking in the dying sun along the Strait of Magellan.
THE Apache Tomcat
Written by
THE Apache Tomcat  A clothing store
(A clothing store)   
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