deepundergroundpoetry.com
Random Thoughts
Ramdom thoughts in amber
A collection of impurities
The curare one not dormant
Taking wing, and eyes fever hot
I believe in omens
Will I die before I wake?
I must leave it up to deities
Eschew the harpies from my past
Seraphs come and seraphs go
And my dread of death will never last.
A collection of impurities
The curare one not dormant
Taking wing, and eyes fever hot
I believe in omens
Will I die before I wake?
I must leave it up to deities
Eschew the harpies from my past
Seraphs come and seraphs go
And my dread of death will never last.
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