As my assassin I salute you
And pay respect to storm clouds of vanishing dreams
Bright lights of salvation burn
Through the last few remaining leaves
On the tree of life again
I have clearly seen your eyes through my maelstrom
And in the briefest, cruelest glimpse of final sunlight
As our comets crash
We slip Away again
And drowning you can't tell me
And I can't tell you....
( _ ____ ___ )
November
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