something still moves
inside the hollow chest
like a dark figure, beating
forward or between
each single of my breaths
don't you like the pounding?
Padam! Padam!
For this pain is claimed
and eventually it seemed
the pounding of my heart
stood between the painter
and many of his dreams
Padam! Padam!
An early bird sings along
I wish I was alive
to finish with him
his earhtly lonesome song
...
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