Pamela Cordero


Ever Sith

Isolated, all this time hither, twinge?
Subsist lost in the accomplished deceit,
Upon all of my feelings doth hinge
Remaining in the car, on the back seat

Each things betide for an acumen, why?
Akin the blade falls during Autumn, chosed path
Must a soul be conscious of pang and lie?
A being can find mirth, ecstasy, nathe

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