DIRTY CLOUDS

Their muse is there to always lament no-gory day? If not their dirty lovely date, then tis about lust to prevail. Their veins are always agile on the plane of gray; They, demonic breaths, breeding perverted bartenders in veil. The day knows their port and plots than the night, But...

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CLOUDS CRY

There i sat Watching the black clouds eclipse the sun watching it weep incessantly Its silver tears showers from the sky perhaps for good measure as time is fashioned to this performance The birds run for they’re nest nested by the greens of nature standing tall staying put for as...

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