Existence has been ripped
to shreds
all decadence, been torn
asunder
all the worriers put
to bed
coroners sliding back
their covers
clockwork clicking near
to dead
comfort pillows now to
smother
remember what the wise
men said
we’ve lost ourselves but
found eachother
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the sieve and the sand 
excellent.
i enjoyed reading that
The rhythm and rhyme in this are spot freakin’ on.
D’aw, thanks.