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The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
I go to freeze on dark tides
I wake before three.
for another’s riches
Crimson clouds hang low.
The day’s embers glow softly,
burning down to dusk.
The night air’s cold hand
reaches down and pulls my breath
in shards from my chest.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
Waves, softly lapping
Dappled light wanders.
Across the lush, verdant grass