Leaves, by TimidTragedy
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Buried leaves off sycamore trees,
how weary is the way.
And wayward towns with hungry hounds,
is this the way we came?
The winters here and the sky must clear
all hint of what was warm and bright.
My love you're always by my side
Amidst the lantern light |
Posted: 2010-01-23 03:13:25 UTC |
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2010-02-04 13:59:00 | essie |
awesome! |
2010-02-12 15:40:55 | Convalescence |
It's really good. Short-but it sums it up.
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