Route 11

I remember this route very well,
She came into my dreams through it,
Dressed in black tight gown,
She was too real like an evil ghost,
But her soul tainted with dark wine,
She had taken absinthe for supper,
And came staggering and expatiating,
Playing a sad song to her beloved one,
And a serenade to the one she hates,
That îs why she came happy,
Holding a blunt knife painted with blood,
Full of misery and revenge like sunday mercury,
That is why?i am waffling without peace,
With my thinking absconded with no ease.

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