Lovers are lunatics with lusting sanity and wild eyes. Clouds rolling in and nothing dislocates, an already boggled mind. Ghosts line the doorways matching bad timing with bad timing. Footsteps of good things leading off into horizons. Questions left unanswered. Wonders now wandering to find contentment within the sound of settling. Deathly hollows and beauty is caving inward causing spectacular sadness. Fussing intent with action, contradicting eyes pleading for opposing grief. Sweet madness developing and creating stacks of impressionable weight on the shoulders of fragile topics.
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