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Literature Text
Instead of sand
lava flows...
dripping hot globe to globe.
As I flip the hour glass
hoping the anger rests...
slips from within my breast
on to the ancient past.
lava flows...
dripping hot globe to globe.
As I flip the hour glass
hoping the anger rests...
slips from within my breast
on to the ancient past.
© 2014 - 2024 SleentheBeast
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