Growing dim, slowing ever, lies and false pretenses sever, bonds of love such eyes can never play the hand of God forever. Mother Nature’s nurture grows, easing Hermes dying woes, father’s time has seemed to slow feelings of invertigo. Incarnations casting spells over death’s cold burning hell, souls lie mute deep where they dwell, false content within their shell. Life’s salvation loses breath, when autumn winds lie close to death, Coldness sets when love has left, leaving countless lives bereft.Birth sign: Libra
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