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￭ in return for your navy blue shirt
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2006-10-13 | |
I will not venture out alone
outside - out there -
where winds whisper within dead trees
can you hear the chanting?
... hang on to hope...
can you hear their whispers?
... hang on to hope in hopeless seasons...
I wonder is this despair?
for I had never known anything like it...
... and this stark darkness...
yesterday she gave a scream of fury
and launched herself at me.
by the end of that eerie surge
the grass around me was spattered with blood
- and I broke down and wept -
it was then that I heard them;
hoarse, weak whispers
coming out of the depths of the woods.
who would keep vigil?
there is too much to guard against
and hope was never a goddess;
for I have seen thee overwhelming the forests and the mountains.
I' ve lit a fire and invoked the winds to protect its light;
as they chanted their ancient rituals
sparks of the fire whirled up into thy darkness on eddies of warm air;
an ancient house once fired quickly burns
like wind she came, relentless was her hunger
and I grew weaker, more lethargic as I bled
she seconds me in misery no longer
winds rushing in have found me dead
... and fled screaming with horror...
as I reached for the dagger my spirit became complete.
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