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Apr 2014
We live beneath an ocean of air
That keeps us as one through pressure,
As currents conspire to tear us apart
The maelstrom whispers and roars.
Picking leaves from trees
That cascade unto the ground
With n'er a sound but of rippling foliage.
A hermitage lost in a sirocco,
Drowned beneath the gales of this world.
Rob Rutledge
Written by
Rob Rutledge
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