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Replying to a comment on:
inside the raven (Other) by PsydewaysTears The raven sings
of wicked things
of killer claws and blackened wings
but I know where the raven cries
because the light inside his eyes
reflected me
reflected me
reflected bluebird blue-filled skies
where secrets graze in compromise
so many things
the raven sings
he sings, he sings, he sings, he lies.
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