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The sun still burns through clouded renditions, eyes black with the tainted sorrows of a darkened days. Still burned beyond the visual acuity of subconscious glaring. But we still collect pictures in the ashes of clouds. Tombs of imaginations folly.
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
The Sun Whispers Behind Clouds
The sun still burns through clouded renditions, eyes black with the tainted sorrows of a darkened days. Still burned beyond the visual acuity of subconscious glaring. But we still collect pictures in the ashes of clouds. Tombs of imaginations folly.
poetic-t
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
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