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Face The Horizon

As snow does to a fire your lovely outstretched feet does your white gown;
arching the marvelous song he trembled to feel
like dragonflies heading to be framed by a small glow of light!

It droop’s her pale flower like cheek she dreams with.
Them with a cloak of ignorance, they laugh at the sky.
He has murmured its ballad amongst great conquering eyes.
Studded black through this horror of space.

And he faces the horizons in the sacred woods
his little black gloves rest inside her hands of white skin
next to the flow of the murmuring waters river

He no longer felt himself, and distances himself from that time,
now they bath in knowledge of the skies, and its silver waves.




Poetry writer and lover.

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