The greyA Poem by StellaMariaA hope projected to naive eyes. Be the weary lamb, a wolf, starving? Come on in then, neath my hearth. Friend or wretched foe, I can't discern. But, how shall I dismiss a voice so dear? Intoxicate me with it again. Until, one day, I come up for air. Breaking bonds that hold me. I begin again, shivering. shaken from the core. 3 steps back. with wisdom new, should I choose it. © 2015 StellaMaria |
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Added on December 16, 2015 Last Updated on December 16, 2015 Author
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