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Rio
A blessed land of what my guesses were true,
The land glittering of silver, gold, and a sky vivid blue.
The aspiring natives of the land so mild
A tale there is , to tell every child.

A blessed land of what my intentions were true,
Beloved, as of what my devil gave a clue,
In it's essence I had to hold,
With hope of dreams to unfold.

A blessed land of what my mind was insane,
A pain I couldn't maintain, a habit I couldn't tame.
A hole never to be filled again,
Perhaps only for everything to drown in a rain.
© Kendel Taylor