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Dying Lyrics

At the edge of chaos

The jester dances

Expressing his reality

Through movement

He sings

And it echoes through the order

The sad songs

Of the agents of empathy

Their notes are felt

And then let go

But hardly appreciated

In this world of ego’s

Lyrics die on the tongue

Never reaching the masses

And the songs left never written

Are the saddest ones of them all.


-C.H.


 
 
 

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