GiftsA Poem by Ana B.A tender night For the broken heart he gave me. Closeness falsified. Does the pertinence have any guarantee?
In this poly fauna of laymen I bent and plucked The Stygian wings of the raven That has had this world so heavily drugged
With the stench of despair. Imbibed till up in the exosphere Yet the world painfully unaware But adoring and sincere
Over the gluttony’s reverie © 2017 Ana B.Author's Note
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Added on September 15, 2016Last Updated on February 16, 2017 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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