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Jul 2014
Fire in the sky
Volcano spores finding seed
Within my spark scarred chest
They grow
Racing lava through enraged veins
Once alabaster skin chameleons to crimson
Overwhelmed
It must find an outlet
This intensity could burn down a village
Melt glacial strongholds
Even evaporate the deepest depths
I choose instead a different route
Pen in hand, ink my battle axe
Blank page, innocent lines
*****. Pillaged. Plundered.
Many verses later I am spent
It's purity never stood a chance
I rarely feel the emotion of anger. When I do, you read about it.
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
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