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Nov 2012
Break the mortal chain,
And dissever its golden coils
All that is, is meant to be undone

The bitter frosts of autumn
They dance upon my lips
And settle low the ground
To steal a flowers breath
And lay them now into their beds
Beyond this mortal stretch

Long for spring my dear,
When winter is in the air
For if we do expire
I will be waiting there
Brandeelynne Stetak
Written by
Brandeelynne Stetak
618
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