The tree sparrow bows
in sublime patience
as the weary moon offers
deafening silence
Another long night comes
in secret hollow
I bleed the same seasoned bruise
mist begets sorrow
Sometimes when night falls
in fragmented tide
I let the turns consume me
shying my strong side
Deep down words doze off
in polite sequence
I puff the lingering blues
popping quintessence.
Oh the night still young
in shaking fingers
I pick a stone to throw
where the imp lingers
Could it be possible
in fading hate
I will find signs from the cracks
or is it quite late?
Humans get run-down
in foiled trials
I have tasted hell on earth,
guess it's normal.
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