A walk to the bus and on the max
A fortune teller talks of a horrid prophecy within earshot
of me
Meetings for with spark would be made
For a time or two and then will die forever
From a hated man by the widower’s scorn
Sent and sent with no reprieve
A heartache life she has lived to now and all of man beware
Unbenounced to I
A vine hath grow to set the charlatan’s story to time
Readied to grow berries and the most succulent fruit
To form a kingdom in the base of saudade
Where love comes to tempt those of its grasp onto a sadness
storm last through the changing of light
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