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There's a tolling depth to me, A rebounding chasm Space a hopeful quantity Tuned instruments ignore Where broken column qualities Lie naked in the unkempt stubble Undisturbed, those civilised peaks Mountains for heavens bored smooth by soft hands Champing teeth abound the wind, Old sounds of dun legs taking flight And leaving the knotted trees That died in the clotted soil Be warned, beasts have left this barren Sharp corners have been smoothed for Once this land was deep and green And gushed with florid indecencies Now its depth tolls With the charter of the wind Scattering what few collected rocks remain As bricks for walls built far beyond.
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 10:39 AM UTC
Toll
There's a tolling depth to me, A rebounding chasm Space a hopeful quantity Tuned instruments ignore Where broken column qualities Lie naked in the unkempt stubble Undisturbed, those civilised peaks Mountains for heavens bored smooth by soft hands Champing teeth abound the wind, Old sounds of dun legs taking flight And leaving the knotted trees That died in the clotted soil Be warned, beasts have left this barren Sharp corners have been smoothed for Once this land was deep and green And gushed with florid indecencies Now its depth tolls With the charter of the wind Scattering what few collected rocks remain As bricks for walls built far beyond.
Porto-graffiti
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 10:39 AM UTC
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