Canyon

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The river has long
Run from this place
The earth bears the
scars on its face
the curved and carved
spires of stone
the wind whistles through
an eerie moan
the rising light burns
stone red
Spilt fire dripped across
rock bed
Fire turned solid
The burning contained
The green has gone
Only metal remains
An iron forge
Abandoned by time
Where the work of hammers
Has ceased to chime
Yet there is strength in its form
Although tired, weathered and worn
To survive water-wearing
And strong winds rages
Speaks of a patience
Of numerous ages
In this harsh domain
Only earth can remain





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