The swallow’s song
chained by rusty shackles rattling, as he walks a desolate path alone his shallow breaths cursing all who cherish the swallow’s song too deep his rivers of despair cascading through the crevasses of an aging heart dwindling rapidly pass the point of no return each day he favors this world a little less
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hellfire
Art….. is the footprint of inner essence – James Carver
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