An M. Lid

By: pseudomuffin

Another sunset passes in a warm, peach-like glow.

Night is born anew, as the moon becomes ruler of the heavens.

Darkness robs the world of the vibrant colors of day.


Never has the fearless wind blown so frostily

on bare and bereaved skin--

would that skin so sensitive grow scales.


Mother of memory be damned--

yet for her attention--blessed be!


Lingering embraces of lost love;

of permeating parsnips and persimmons--

voluptuous rose hips and pink petals--

everlasting happiness ending in accident.


Insurmountable misery, mountains of melancholy,

seraphim Dulcinea, vanishing upwards in flight.


Devastating days of drunkenness--

ending when the Everclear is empty,

and the stars are bright overhead.

Death has passed by and struck near, laughing.

ANMLIDPO
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