Fringed, frayed, fried,
memories of you,
crumbles in the wind,
Battered, bruised, banished,
my darkened soul,
bathes in the blood,
I trembled, swayed, to that sweet nectar of your scent.
That rolling hill of black forest, tingles at my caress.
Oh my dear Caroline, won't you stop this sweet torture,
gnawing away at the deep crevice of my heart,
as I slip away.
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