No Title Whatsoever

April 15, 2009
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Thy graceful soles dance across the wan snow,

Leaving no trace, no imprint left behind.

For sooth, only does my extant heart know

That thy urbane eyes pierce my be stilled mind.

The earth around is desolate and bleak.

Arctic winds of desperation condemn

The fire blazing as my heart does seek

My love, whom I lost in midst bedlam.

Stripped of joy, I ponder in solitude.

I fear silence because it speaks the truth.

Reminiscing of her affable mood,

Ironically judged with trees uncouth.

Alas, my love had left this world amiss,

Departing me with one final brusque kiss.

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