Books tend to pile Cords tend to tangle Toasts tend to burn Heads tend to turn Poems tend to rhyme Revolt tends to crime Things tend to trend Empires tend to end Skins tend to wither Summer tends to winter Sunrise tends to dusk Humans tend to lust Mouths tend to yawn Sleep tends to dawn Stars tend to fade Hearts tend to break
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What is this cold?
Is it the winter wintering? Is it the passion fizzling? Is it the fear awakening? Is it the void unpacking? It is all of that, Matheus... But like your favorite poet once said: Don't kill yourself. |
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