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Jan 2015
The wings that were never flown,
Were flightless and on their own.
As intertwining winds cast many sins,
You followed those skies alone.
A dove that magpies borrowed,
Carved white in nests of sorrow,
To possess such gold,
The dove lay cold,
Now it's known,
There will be,
No tomorrow.
NothingInMotion
Written by
NothingInMotion
359
   Rhet Toombs
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