afireinthesnow: (Default)
A canopy of broken dreams
above one small girl's dying screams
her heart is gone, her soul a fire
lighting the way to her funeral pyre.
Now the Reaper laughs at her end
a shattered heart too gone to mend
her eyes are clear as panes of glass
this written poem is her last.
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afireinthesnow: (Default)
Let's Get One Thing Straight: I'm Not.

October 2013

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