Because becauseThe pitch black was simply blindingBecause because
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fireflies spilling from the mirror
Night as dark as your hair, my dear.
We had evergreen autumn skies that winter
frost-burnt like a freezing cold oven,
sunken, rusting at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
But we always had each other's arms for warmth
Ammunition, absolution, artillery
fires of battle and shrapnel still slowly smouldering
But they say wars are not won with weapons.
when I am all alone because it sounds sweeter
I'd like to think that I look simply dashing in the dark.
Yes, only as your hair is, my dear dark, I mean.
oh, of course, dashing as well.
But I want