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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #1802095
A Trois-par-Huit Poem
Death forbids.
The arch of soft eyelids
peek open as memories harrow.

As morning breaks, dazzling beams of amber glow.
This heart aches, dripping through the wake of tomorrow.

Reaper leaves my soul behind, unsung;
Jeering, this new day’s begun,
Curse the sun.



______
http://allpoetry.com/list/38666-Trois-par-Huit
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