Passing Time
Tick-Tock on the sill
Tap-Tap all worry away
Drum-Drum my finger
On Any Sunday
All the clouds were gone
It's warm arm did come to me
Sunday, always snows
Late Night
Eyes as cold as ice
Say, I dare not look away
I wake, eyes held shut
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Monday, February 16, 2009
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2009
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February
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- Highways of Gold
- Solo Music
- Porous
- But the rest of the backdrop was white
- Karmatic Sorbet
- I'm so Zen
- Social Epitome
- Words can be burned, from your grave
- Relations
- My immense fascination with abstract music
- Last Words
- Kin
- A curious incident.
- 2113
- A hundred Thousand
- Exoskeletal
- Me and My Star
- Symphonic Insinuation
- Stranger
- Big Clock
- Cold
- Six people sat on the edge of a beach, watching ev...
- I'm a comedian
- Sunsets
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February
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