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Aug 2017
With singed wings, I soar,
looking for a place to land,
to soothe my burns and heal,
to be ready, once again, to face the fire.

Cold blades wielded
in hands just as cool,
the frigid heart beats.

The lonely moon traverses
the cold and lonely space
waiting to be touched
yet again by the sun.
a Collection of Short poems
The Fire Burns
Written by
The Fire Burns  M/Artesia, NM
(M/Artesia, NM)   
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