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Jun 2014
How did the night arrive so soon?
Now lone wolf's howling to the moon.
He's pacing on, snow under paw,
dreaming of, just one chance more,
at the thing he wants, his true desire.
Need burns within him, like a fire.
Then there it is, second to none,
that perfect beauty, the rising sun.
Ah extended metaphors, how I hate you
The Last Wordsmith
Written by
The Last Wordsmith  New Zealand
(New Zealand)   
1.5k
   Hayley Anders and Jayanta
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