Wisdom of Guitar

I became a torn leaf,
The leaf disappeared into mist,
Morning mist was all about a lie;
When you arrived wearing a black tie.

I became an echo,
Echo was a myth..
Myth suited you well,
When you used to be my shadow.

Said the wisdom tree to the guitarist.

“Perhaps there’s something there that wasn’t there before.” — Villeneuve.
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Conscience is a canvas for portraying all the colours of conflicts and capturing the withering leaves of abstract minds!

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