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Apr 2015
Write now, I sit in silence. The words escape me.
Prisoners running from the search-light.
I flee with the rest, unknowingly burying my head
amongst the tree moss growing wild.
Wild I see the flame.
A burning of un-rational youth, a flame which keeps reaching for a new sun, a new day, a new life.
So what, if you face me with advance. I counter and repose.
Here is your last breath, here is your knowing.
Now watch it disappear.
James Tyler
Written by
James Tyler  Memphis
(Memphis)   
409
   Brittany Zedalis
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