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Dec 2016
An Iron Sky, sighs.
Provides the rusted
Rhythm of the night.
Silence supplied,
Swiftly denied.
Wisps of winter light
Smitten by the smile of night.
That obelisk of shade,
That monolith of shadow,
Minor burns,
Wounds carved shallow onto skin,
Flesh lays fallow
Till iron breaths again.
Rob Rutledge
Written by
Rob Rutledge
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