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Aug 2017
I felt it leave that night,
The deep whisper inside the blight.
A tyrant voice with a song of reason.
hardy, bruised, and fiercely seasoned.

It left in the icy winter wind,
taking the last good thing a good man defends.
The last good thing that makes a man,
now a hollowed creature with an act to pretend.
Frantz Saintil
Written by
Frantz Saintil  Gainesville
(Gainesville)   
223
     Fawn and Lior Gavra
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