September the Twenty-Third

Night of truth, rainy September the Twenty-Third
Truth of our movements spread out like wings of a bird
Listening so closely from the noise heard so near –
Making sure each vowel was inhaled, loud and clear
To touch on this subject of struggles and previous –
Was all at once taken over by the success and the devious
Two souls alike, seperated until rain –
Cast upon windy roads, spoken too little in vain
For the world does not exist without the five senses –
The idea of this woman, cross imprinted on his hands as he clenches.

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