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Rise From The Floor
post a comment | posted Apr 8
I find the busy ones to be extract from the land of doves
I find the daring ones to have a language of love
The falsehood of time keeps knocking for more
Saving a piece to adore
A war with my confidence lacks it's sword
Only to leave the same thing at my door
Could the sky be more black
Could the weight have more slack
Strings of a violin entangle my ear
With the striking flaunt of fear
The bittersweet synphony rings the air
Until the monument of care
Is gone
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