A Home Never Found

April 23, 2009
On winter nights the dead walk the iced grasses under the chilled skies. Their immortal breath creates a fog in the petrafied air. The snow freckles fall onto their glistening bone fragments and desintegrate creating a canvas of moistened skin. The follow the warmth steaming off the bodies of their descendants. Home is calling the forgotten, frozen souls and they will forever wander to it's voice.

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maddie1997 said...
Apr. 13, 2010 at 3:12 pm
gave me chills
mark said...
Jan. 12, 2010 at 6:05 pm
i felt bad that they wander for them home, but it was a lovely peom. nice a short.
olivia said...
Jan. 12, 2010 at 6:04 pm
sad ): but still good (:
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