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Gaunt
 
The strain of purple sap,
through withered vines
entrenched inside maiden snow,
reminds the vessel of burdens
that slump the mountains shape.

Encumbered, the flightless wings
sorrowfully droop in scourge of soot.
Curling like seashells on distant shores,
seeking ridges destined to be swallowed
by the oceans indigo jaws.

By VirulentMalice

© 2012 VirulentMalice (All rights reserved)

 

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