#487754 added February 13, 2007 at 11:54am Restrictions: None
Passings
Stolen is a heart of glass
Make my wine and serve it cold
All these things peak and pass
Stories fade and fealings fold
Touch a delicate flower to grow
Yet what is strong like tangled weeds
Passes on to further valleys low
Sins shall be a flurry onto dark deeds
Whist all wither away as I tip my hat
I tip it to the sky and that is that
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