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Jun 2015
She watched the guild
from afar, its yeast of unrest.
In her nomade pace

she wandered to choose
the wind and a river.
Self exiled

from edenic insights,
her quest was love immunity.
In a make believe sortilege,

she tattered her red laces
and marionnetted a will.
Rain fell: she was but a pretender.
10.6.2015
chimaera
Written by
chimaera
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