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Dec 2020
stroke of madness at my pillars,
  the dark blue sea that fills your eyes,
      break me to the very essence of my weak core
          you see through my impetuous being.

Words, words, they are just words
   but they change the very of aura of my spirit.
      clawing, at the soft bark,
           the rip down my pillars,
                 bring down my wall,
                     your sea rough , tumultuous, unyielding.

I wish I had a million balloons,
to tie and lift me higher,
      and rise above it all
            but your in your ocean,
                 I love myself,
                     drown,
                         fall
                          &
               I call it
                          l̶o̶v̶e̶
The Dead Poet
Written by
The Dead Poet  The Moon
(The Moon)   
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