Autumn leaves
Summer
time echoes in the fresh memory stealing wicked smile on the face, still brewing
inside my core of things, still recovering from it… and yet again I have done
my part of sin, expensive treats in my summer heat. Hotwiring women’s hearts,
making my way through, the kind of diligent worker I am. Somebody just got to
give…
And
right now I can hear the cold of a new autumn, an omen and a signature for all
those thousands of colors which need to be touched, smelled, and touched again.
In all the depraved splendor of a soul stripped from pride, there is something
left… there’s always something there, the well is never empty…
And
like every other autumn I make an effort to forget, defying myself in a false pretense; when deep down in my conscience I truly know the meaning of what’s meant
to remain unforgettable. Complementing the cold, time picks up somewhat slower
pace.
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