9 Dec 2010

my warmth clings violent against the frozen wind
the pain of my sins is the curious sting
of light breaking the cipher of my conscience
time shall not understand my hesitations
but the perfect rose haunts the hand of my becoming
secondly born from the touch of fathomless height
crumpled in the snow, memory evaporates
i know the name of the world that holds me
as everything is lost to the drift of freedom

posted by John H. Doe @ 10:46 pm

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