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Aug 2014
His fingers grew cold and stiff in the cradle of my own
Last breath rattled, marker of death
Innocence violently stripped away
Shell left, a hollow reflection
Those pieces lay in defeated slumber
For months the clouds gathered
Rain, soft and chilling
Lulled quiet the rage, tears fell
A violent gush coming dangerously close to flooding
All of the hidden cavities that remained
Until one day the sky opened
Hesitant rays like bird's first flight
Shimmered down with angelic serenity
Bringing warmth once again
My eyes squinted to adjust
Recoveries healing hand
Had finally reached out to sooth
The wounds remain, puckered, ragged edged
I will carry them like badges of honor
For you were worth fighting for
Your laughter still echo's
Plastering the walls of the hole you left behind
With saturated, hopeful colors
For Jeremiah. May you be soaring above these clouds. I have a kite string up there you may always grab ahold of incase you get too high.
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
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