Maybe the only thing keeping me here
The thought of never being able to exist again
I’d be long gone if it was a different concept
If existence was possible even after going six feet underground ...
Within the pale blue haze above,
Some pitchy shreds took size and form,
And, like a madman's wrath or love,
From nothing rose a sudden storm.
The blossom'd limes, which seem'd to exhale
Her breath, were swept with one strong sweep,
And up the dusty road the hail
Came like a flock of hasty sheep,
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