Untitled, by Wiccanfaerie
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winters breeze and gentle snow
a single tree lonesome and tall
it's bare branches creepy and scrawny
death is what it breathes and death is what is screams
out of the window-a cold barren wasteland
the contrasting canary yellow of the window frame
it burns against the image of the snow and the tree
it's as if it could all just ignite, and burn
burn with intense heat
burn like a new born star
burn until there is nothing left
nothing left; not a soul; not a shadow; not a whisper...
...but it doesn't
no warmth
no love
no life
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Posted: 2009-08-22 19:06:56 UTC |
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