crude by the solace and hampered by the name,
the little beck was a huge flog
once the seeps and no here, no clench
the cadence had little hope
jagged in the coronary and love
little sight is sewed, and weed romp clogs
feud of sounds and louds, the emination did hurt
spurt at lowly loss, no gains, and all vains
fagged deckless on the lamp of shade and tried for hour
the gravity was non-sober, herald 'what was?'
i was. non-have. non-true. and speechless
i was ghost.
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