Poetry Blog by Harrison Peterson

I hold my soul like a candlestick,

Without light, leading me blindly through the darkness, 

I stumble and fall

While collecting scars like the medals of a general's jacket,

I ground my base at the bottom of a valley,

As I watch the fires of the world chase through the trees

Glittering the skies with ash, the darkness hides my form.

Although from such treachery, a spark finds t...

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