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Many moons
I wait all all alone
Dreaming of your coming
Sponsored by past memories.
In pain and boredom,
In anxiety and astringent,
In love and patience.
I await your coming.
My morals and dignity
My virtues and virginity
Banking all for your return,
Hoping you would in return.
I wait and live in agony
Of redundant irony.
I sing of your coming
Only to be stiked by mourning
When my eyes clapped your corpse arriving
Welcome back
But not
Welcome home.
