Can you feel it?
The world corrodes.
The lustre scuffed. Shine-dulled. Old.
Crumbled time erodes.
We who made it:
Amidst cock-crows
Of rusted trust, wine-filled souls
Stumbled psychic roads.
See who brave it:
The lurker knows
That lovers crossed, fine-filled fools,
Mumble platitudes.
Can you feel it?
The hurl-hacked trove
Of luck? Of lust? Smile-lulled? Now
Humbled. Song-failed.
Alone.
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