a poem - There that precious something she had lost...

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With plenty of time to spare, At dawn’s eve, the maiden knew, If no one could see, no one would care (those to notice, there were less than few) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The swing, the park Somewhere in her memory Someone left a mark (with the faint scent of emery) Though shallow, too deep A null pain resound, The voice would touch her in sleep (but a source was nowhere to be found) She went there to remember As the very thought waned Her heart raced beside December (In naked silence the beat reined) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Freedom had come at a price Resolved against tears, She forgave, released herself of vice (Rather forget than fight her fears)
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Unformatted text preview: There that precious something she had lost Unwillingly, feeling alone and torn Any emotion heedlessly smothered by frost (There, was no need to mourn) All the bruises and broken wire Whitewashed by new fallen snow Dauntless entropy, primal instinct igniting frozen fire (a gentle, healing glow) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A smile obscure, Sunshine streaming from beneath a cloud veil. Assuring the past was secure, (so not even the wind could tell the tale) Turned on her heel Condensing air, thinning with chill She ran, refusing to reel (Nor to stand still with so much time to fill)...
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