Lightning strikes off the stormy horizon.
Waves crash and we see the bad moon risen'.
Long forgotten faces, those left behind.
You do not see for you choose to be blind.
We ponder to ourselves what could have been.
We, the personification of sin.
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Howling
PoeziePeople will lie to you and tell you that everything will be okay. They'll tell you some bullshit story of how they were a troubled young adult and how they grew out of it. The thing is, nothing is ever going to be 100% okay. But for most of us, the...
