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The Noose
Poems
May 2014
The Grey
The truism of a fading facade
Diminished novelty
And vanished reverers
Blinded by an idle fancy
Treading on the periphery
Of disgrace
Closer to horror
Than to ecstasy
The vacant spaces
Are growing dimmer
Tangled in high lonesomeness
In your kingdom of grey.
Written by
The Noose
32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)
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Weeping willow
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