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The Flowers After The Frost

Exquisite and yet frozen,
Their color lost of its vibrance.
Cold and graceful as ice upon their bed of stone,
They sadden me as I look upon them,
Fragile and dead in the blue cold light.
A bitter,
Painting of a sharp reality.
Interwined in loneliness, 
I think of them.
The flowers after the frost.

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