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Children of dying flowers believe

When the flowers die
The children will soar
Across the beautiful sunset sky
And the bleeding broken hearts,
Of lovers whose hearts have been beaten
They now lie on the floor.
Black masses
Expand across the world
And showing it
Finally truthful
The world is just
A black hearted
Broken amount of pain
But every once in a while
The darkness retracts
Allowing the hearts to mend and beat
And then the children
Will soar once again.





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