Empty Wind

February 28, 2010
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Blooms of all fragrances
Colored her every step
Her tears dressed her wounds
Withered away to nithing.

She was nothing
Not herself
Nor anyone else...

Distraught with inner turmoil
Her empty wind swept the street
Her art-less revival
Humanities heart-print

She's being killed
By her loneliness;
Stranded her there,
Turned her away,
To fill an empty hole.

The purple gray sky her blanket
And the world slept underneath.
Mistakes tore her world apart.

She walks the plains of isolation.
Her heart was cold, more or less..

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