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Those "attention seekers"
They want attention because no one gives them anything.
Those are the people who are slowly slipping from the light,
Into an abyss they can never come out of.
The pumpkin returns
With flaming sinister grins...
Ajoined, once more.
We dance upon this rooftop...
Red leaves on summer trees
It's not my favourite colour.
But it's my favourite on you...
They said, holding on to this narrow ledge, slowly...
Too much weight on my shoulders to keep up...
We're all too focused on the sunset, the beauty of the sun falling.
But we all forget the magnifcence in the moon rise.
The machines of war will kill us all.
You push me, when I'm a door that you should've pulled.
by Trampled Angel
by Maple Tree
by William Mae