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COLD FEAR

 

 

 

Jagged white screams

sharpen to icicles

brittle tears lie scattered

and ground under foot

diamond cut streams

lost in the labyrinth

fast frozen in time

at the moment of truth.

 

Holder of secrets

the cut glass of plenty

sharp as a dagger

the chilling white wine

cruel as a cutting edge

shards of bright silver

encrusted with sapphires

cold by design.

◄ VOICE FROM THE PAST

LET ME MAKE IT CLEAR ►

Comments

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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Thu 22nd Dec 2022 10:55

Some nice metaphors there.

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Flyntland

Thu 22nd Dec 2022 09:53

Stephen, Holden, Clair, Patricia and Stefan - thank one and all for your likes.

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