Knight from a lost battle

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I see my fingerprints on the proof of insanity,

A song driving bolts into the dead skin,

mottling,

pale,

cold,

singing into the ears of roaring sea,

debris of penetrating tune piling up at my doorsteps,

hear me,

my tune,

the melody of foiled agony,

the snowflakes blown away in the wind,

resting aimlessly on bare branches,

I am but a leafless winter,

the white fluff that coats the earth,

the grey sky that breathes into the day,

innocent truth of craftily hidden solitude,

the knight from a lost battle.

All dust…

December’s Eve

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