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Jul 2013
Darkness morphs into a sliver of light
opens on a stained glass kaleidoscope -
patterns shift, rise, fall like we did last night,
I'm in over my head.Β Β Throw me a rope.
Dangle me just at the edge, hang on tight
an empty vessel lost, if not for hope.
Secrets crash on a shore of skeletons,
bones picked clean by circumstance undone.
An attempt at ottava rima.
Colorfulpen
Written by
Colorfulpen  Texas
(Texas)   
555
     st64, Mizanur Rahaman and jude rigor
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