
Alone as the midnight-hours
towers above; below-me.
Oh me, alone in a white orchard-
tortured by a memory. Remember beautiful-eyes
Lies fall silent on deaf ears.
Fears, they say, add to your age.
Rage, they say, depletes the years,
Tears, they say, blind bright eyes.
Ties you to thoughts mistaken. Dying embers, cold-ashes
dashes hearts that are aching
raking embers of cold dreams. Ashes in the white-orchard
tortured by beautiful-eyes
lies alone in winter’s discord. Beautiful-eyes,
lies that fall on
deaf-ears,
fears that are reflected in your age,
rage blinds
bright-eyes,
ties you down and are-aching,
raking in the
white-orchard,
tortured.
cold-ashes,
dashes our hearts, that by the memory of beautiful eyes,
Lies.


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