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Dark bits.

well, it's dark bits of prose, isn't it?
5 years ago. Saturday, July 25, 2020 at 7:51 AM

A broken sky weeps over a lonely road,
and for a moment all the world is a Texas ghost town.
My sinister muse,
reeking of rusty iron and fresh screams sits beside me one last time.
A funeral dirge plays flat through the AM radio.
Then fades like a dying car engine.
It leaves a lesser night, a poorer world.

 

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