Monday, November 17, 2008

Sitting on the tan couch:

Sighed "Regret," he said to me "oh, woe of thee and apathy"
and wept inside his eyes still closed "...a perfect ship that sank and rose.
A method we have left of us: a rhyme and text left souls untouched.
May sleep sweep me from life and breath. " At best we wept of second death.

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