Untitled Part 3 Etched in an euphoric state The truth hurts And harasses seasons shunned upon Just beyond sight In the shadows of the tide Common sense at a terminal cost It pays to breathe between the lines . Then it happened The return to a desolate crime scene Stars stalk lonely light poles Nothing to see here Empty chairs, After images playing guitars And a hummingbird with a rose in its mouth perched on a tattered hanker chief covering a cup of virgin coffee.
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