cinders burning at last.
buildings worn down in their place.
a little girl gazing out a dusty window
all she wants a dress of lace.
music loitering throughout rooms.
impassive roses lying upon a piano.
one will always be alone.
can you hear the cries at night,
gasping for extended air.
drawing vines around your neck,
watching out her door and down the stairs.
in dreams so far it entraps me from reality.
how can visions seem so real.
aspiring love just this once...
i touch, how can she not feel.
 
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