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Orla Jan 2021
Falling to the ground as I dance,
Delicately covering the earth,
Lacing in our hearts a dance of ice,
cold crystals form on our still shapes,
Falling to the ground soft like wool,
Dancing our dance of snow till we die,

Falling to the ground as i sing,
A melody much like me,
Fragile and broken to the slightest,
Of warmth to graze its surface,
Cursed to sing my song forevermore,
Singing our song of snow till we die
Orla Jan 2021
I walk to my court of words
Through the woods i hear whispering birds,
And when i settle at the feet,
of an ash his twisted branches discrete,
And through the wood its resonating voice called,
You seek wisdom i recall?
And with the tip of my head its voice again,
Child what is your trouble and how may i assist,
Then his words leaked like honey hissing,
and through the woods came an awful chill,

— The End —