You win and you lose.

Truth of every fraction of time spent on this Earth.

A misty morning is the promise for a radiant sunny afternoon, you just need to climb where the rain doesn’t drop.

Sometimes this never comes to fruition for you don’t want to.

So comfortable in your cashmere coat and the constant sound of rain, so perfectly happy with your thoughts made in heavy lead.

You search light and warmth when you’re unhappy, then you’ll move.

Just don’t stop yourself at the first ray, go straight for the supernova and be blinded.

You talk nosense. You are the noise.

I talk of love lost.

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