By ivy   

I feel a need in solitude
my melancholy is where it dwells
I sense a pain in my song
the one where it was flawed
Ballad of what flows
deep as river, quick as sand
Salts and bleached air
of the colours my eyes spied
Wary of the arson that spread
and the infidelity that soar in
As I weave through threads,
sew a new scar in own palm
The pain mine deserved
the soul that men deserted
Tis the only truth I bear
Only lie I humble to stand
Pitched perfect like bird
Singing to me and you
Steps leaped off the cliff
Fickle as yours and as mine

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