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There are defining moments when the blossoms bloom in spite of the wind, the reeking dryness of the ice cold plies of travelling light amid concrete, ..
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It is summer yet, and the last roses fade to gloom,in the searing heat of our midnight silence,and the parting shadows of a distant moon,in this darkn..
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This night I wake, to musics aloof,so distant in the wonders of passion,and so eager, that yet, amused,I say,I've found here so little, compassion!It ..
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what a hanging vision that lingers 'round the bend,a fading figure in the darkness, of wounds to never mend...and a melody from far away, humming a so..
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A poem i wrote for the contest: "Up for a challenge?"
" http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/Up-for-a-challenge%3F/46957/ "
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I still wake every morning to find myself dangled in mine own breath; this that you have cast upon my living.
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I may give into the shade; the waiting hours of sunset braid... one autumn evening dress, and all this soon shall fade.
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You may find yourself lost, in the bitterness of a beautiful dream, force not the waking scream; the melody will chant us out of place, and the fiddle..
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kindly, play me the songs of hope? i may need some passion play, and just a bit for a hanging rope!
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The evenings trot so vividly posing to the noisingstrokes of the brown fiddler's brush; forth to paint a new dream for the restless!
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