The smoky winter slowly begins to settle in the dark,
Moonlight shines as a mocking spark,
The birds in the distance begin to fade away,
As we sit in the middle of nowhere.
Screams heard as my strings begin to break,
Written in stone our stories begin to shake,
Embedded in my head are memories,
Of long ago, no longer exist.
Falling, falling continuously from grace,
Drops of water they seem to pass me by,
Far from anything else I can’t see the signs,
But broken wings we will rise again and again we shall fly…
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