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Untitled Sestina
Quake it did, like a tremor in the ground, when moon
 sought refuge in the nightly sky. So when it rose,
 to life it did bring a seed with its warm tears.
 Refusal to die yet too timid to let live 
 in the harsh time of a forgotten fall 
 whose memories are in oblivion, so then true it no longer remained to its spirit.
 
 A shiver sent upon so as to chill not only kindly spirit 
 but send thoughts of revelation to handsome moon
 that caused only the white spherical moments to drop. Fall
 they did upon the now trampled weed that rose,
 or once more attempted to live.
 Bitterness escaped as weed tears
 
 away from the sinews of its home. Tears
 escaped as rejection ensued, going against the spirit 
 of its nature. Moment to fight and let live
 or perish and be gone from the facing moon.
 Frost pellets that diminished weed, and so then rose
 in stance to prove the amnesiac fall
 
 had lost its reason. Did I fall
 into solitude? As foreignness was all I found as tears
 were all that were there to comfort?  They rose
 forth a warm remembrance of how born my spirit
 was with the gazing of lonely moon.
 And to laugh that the feeling now be mutual with the decision to let live
 
 with an objective. Miracle it be to be found live
 with the frosty, unlike those of that nightly sky, tears
 feuding with a frail weed. But then it rose,
 the calamity-obliterating temperate spirit.
 It brought forth memories, this sister of moon,
 as well as warm tears of regret from fall. To live
 
 was only a mere step in the cycle of life. Be live
 let me once more attempt to grow, for fall
 remembered who it was. And it was now moon
 left to wait, for a weed grows only so tall. Tears
 no longer rose me as diminished became my spirit
 at my inferiority to moon. Doubt once more rose
 
 but vanished with the discovery of rose.
 Seed/weed/rose, was let live,
 for chrysalis had been shed and  my spirit
 proved itself to be as forgetful as fall.
 Seed lost sight as weed lost hope so their collected tears
 brought forth the remembrance of warmhearted moon.
 
 Glistening moon faced the stretched rose
 touching only with dropping tears that let it live
 in the temperate fall, and so connecting their spirit.
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