I DECIDE
Withering on yew tree vines
Left with no voice
Filling the graveyard broken dream mind
Lost Pre Raphaelite desire
Creates a heartbeat
Compelling beauty
In silent splendour
Universal truth, embracing familiarity
Thick Paint lined
Hands melancholy life
Moth lit fires
That spiral and swirl
Hold fire, lingering until nothing transpires...
Thursday 31st March 2016 1:51 pm
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