Deep in the close of a comatose town
With a heart of moon
And crooked skies
There was one soul, a broken boy
Who survived the town's demise
In a room made of trees, he lived alone
With two strings for wrists
And severed hands
He'd pluck pieces from the ashy walls
Long and deep into the night
Scattered in a pile to the left
With a low reach
And a bare sun
The refuse of surrounding gloom
Torn like the forgotten one
Author notes
yeah. writers block. an exercise in getting rid of it. XD FAIL!
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