Maybe, if I had hung around,
she would have stopped to listen
to the old voice in her mind...
...but she watched me disappear
and now it's over and buried with our past.
Welcome to the moor of my mind, to the bog of my mood. In this place you'll find reflections in a shattered mirror, shadows in an autumnal day, changing dark clouds in my mind's nocturnal sky. This place is such a stuff as dreams and nightmares are made on, a journey record which gives shape to a different world. Welcome to my world.
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