Behind the wooden wheel of the towers clock A lonesome heart daydreams and sighs While the winds blow past the buildings spokes And darkness takes over the light of the sky. Her reddened eyes closed, she faintly whispers Of a love long lost and wholly pure Awaiting the midnight's stroke of the clock To mark a memory and begin a cure. Movie flashes of passion built nights Begin to slowly play through the mist of her mind Pushing forth a deeply scarred tear Full of lonely nights and emotions left behind. Pressing the lever at the clocks final tick The wood of the tower slowly melts and bends Destroying her soul and a memory's place Curing a darkness at days end.Birth sign: Pisces
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