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Jan 2013
Through the wood, on a stretch of earth tainted with misery, I trudged on.
A solo performance from a lark broke the still silence;
as barren trees stood like stoic guardians.
This land is the same as it was when it was light;
the rocks are the same;
things differed are the darkness of the earth,
that it smelt now of blood and death.
Katarhyne Clemenzakova
Written by
Katarhyne Clemenzakova  Wandering the World
(Wandering the World)   
618
 
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