Gone Comments

The eyes are shot as they embrace the bundle of memories of the old, years of tiredness inherited on his lids,
Tiny drops of tears dripping down the chins, with each drop comes the reflection of his struggled past,
His eyes bare the witness to his sins, incapable he is to let himself free, free from his disparate morals,
Scolding his nativity and the frail values he had worshiped, which brought nothing but this futility,
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