BY indefiniteloop

“It is late evening and it’s rather dry like the sand without the waves, without the sounds of the waves crashing into each other and on this ever stretching shore line the foot prints remain as markers or as tombstones of all who have had found themselves here before the moon forsook the sun and made him a slave to his own burnings that once were blindly taken as desires wasted away on the moon that has long been knocked off its path and has now been known to venture as a lose planet amongst the millions of other stars that are bound to also burn out one day leaving and letting all their moons to be lost in the coldness of chaos until new suns sprung up and become homes to moons that make sure that the dry spells end and that the waves never stop making music and making sure that the waves never stop washing away all the footprints so.” -

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