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Feb 2014
Broken bones and frazzled stones.
Rusty hands and hairs' split-ends
Broken spirit and barren soul.
This is what the world does to the fools we foster near to home.

Rising tides and turning waves,
Change comes on the winds of hurricanes
Rip,
Tear,
****,
Bite,
as it takes out chunks of your life.
A natural disaster in all but name, does the job all the same.

Fiery mountains and frigid poles
Very much representative of the extremes of your soul.
Forsaken depths and heights of solitude, highs and lows of a life so cold
Sean
Written by
Sean
273
 
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