Dry

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Lying somber and still in the heart of the meadow
Beholding the sun’s next rise
Painting of crimson and lavishing yellow
The sole reflection of those past times

And I’m tracing down the veins of yesterday
New- yet so old, broken, and grey
One by one, fading away
Far too faint to perceive on this day

Light signs of life
Dried up with the tides
Be there one frayed cord remaining inside
After all of these forsaken tries?

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