when night falls
the wolf calls

to renegade souls on the run
unfurling banners beneath the hidden sun

writhing underneath the detritus of the days
moulting skin left on gypsy highways

seeking refuge
reeking of perspired moonshine
traipsing hither and thither walking the line

till dawn slips past
moments meant never to last

scraping the veneer down to rust

lost in shorn flakes strewn in the dust

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