Frozen Ashes

November 12, 2009
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I could feel myself die,
A little more inside,
With each passing glance;
My insides decaying,
My heart growing more frigid rapidly,
And my mind slowly deteriorating,
At each comprehension,
That my soul then encountered.

And then,
With the little viability left in my relics,
I would discover myself asking,
"Why?" to only me.

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