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Jun 2011
burnt the isle in a pause
melt the sand in summer's jaws

the scathing run, un-welcomed blare
sinking hearts begin to tear

layered voices, searing eyes
a shattered broken record flies

turning wide straight through the fire
coming down right to the wire
the frigid wait and sterile hall
holding on before we fall
Written by
A Renee
653
 
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