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Jan 2021
Green, brown, auburn stained
Mud, paint, evil raised.
A hand, grasping hand
lurched out of meaning.
Dead wood, wrong time,
given and gives no reason.
What is object without materiality?
What is natural without
Raw beings, bled straight from earth,
Nothing without our heavy hand
To drag them from
Eternal non-existence and into
Being. Into Matter.
Written by
Freya Rose
54
   MS Anjaan
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