The third man is new

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I promise I will be there
Words with empty meaning, words screaming through the halls of my mind as they make their corse
I know he lies
I know I won't see him until the echo is heard, until the message smacks the back of the wall. Not the wall of the innocence though
Can one echo pass through two circles at once?
I wait. No answer
The doorbell rinds but no one can hear her above all this noise

Not but smiles and scraped knees when we first met
"You've been in the wars" she would say
The war was the best part
Late. But time does not matter, time is on your wrist is all
Hope. Chance. Fresh faces
Another child sprung from your passion, another knee scrapes smile
The race begins but I was always taller, always faster
Every half moon we would meet that child and I
The white box is flying with the butterflies and pink wings now

That's when the screaming started. It was only a whisper then
Two world colliding in one body, the mind won't cope. It can't cope
Can one echo pass through two circles at once?
Hope becomes fear, chance is unwanted and fresh faces turn sour
Now that the third man is new

My scraped knee and smiles are aging
The war is ending. The war was the worst part
My legs are stronger and hiding beneath the flowing material
My mouth is slower to turn, it is wiser, more hesitant
There are flashing lights and a man who want to be flying
I won't let him soar with me, nor with the other knee scraped smile who's mouth is also changing.
The sky is still ours

The white box was emptied that night
Split in three, or four
I promise I will be there
Is it the third man who speaks?
I wait.
No answer

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