Future joys harbor stories untold,
and for the better implied.
But one day as the water dries,
and cracks form in the corners,
there will be no shame, no coverup
no regret.
Levels of obtainment lessen to lost,
and faces look tilted at springs hollow eyes.
Any recollection of blame will unfold
into the retching of dust,
tears will shy,
and as the earth shivers under....
Stories are forgotten
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