Prodigal None

nervous quelling in reminiscent rendezvous among the future past from passed lives and friends expelled. these times should swell in extol, swoon and smile but where are we now if we can’t bask together in past forevers; and how the frame fell from all our grace, or was it always us and we shelved it all to hell? this coming time we’ll ride in smiling and only shoot from the hip in all our existential wanders. cheers, apologies for rogues proceeding, but in the past i’d bled that paradise. i’m always coming home, again i’m always leaving.

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