well of the soul

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knife sharp cuts
cold lies
fallen, blankets all things
swallowed, shards deep no trace leaves
wounded, silence woolen clings
bundled, death slumbers ends struggling
trailed, veiled lace ghosts fading steps bring

cleansing, breath swept fire banked low
gathered, spirit wanders bathed in shadow
drinks deep, thirsting well of the soul

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LeBrozLeBrozover 15 years ago
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This poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>

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