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Poetic T Sep 2016
Within the mists of the dammed each
droplet that forms burns upon mortal
coils. Searing upon the corruption that
hides beneath silken deceptions.

Shadows wonder on the waters of tears,
echoes of what was but now a mere image
of what lumbered beneath. With each silhouette  
that drowned beneath its weight of sorrow.

In the mists an echo of their anguish forms
then just as it was it fades from memory like
so many before it. And then another seed
wonders in the mist and its true form blossoms.

— The End —