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Violent Undecided Orphans

by Ryan Nardi

Then came the dark.
Home sighed uneased.
The wind in the stars
holds eyes and deeds.

Oh, how the choir
told the victories.
Pan theatre.
Old smells in our dreams.
We paint fire
and hold the strangest beliefs.
It compels us to speak...

How long you have lain me here.
How long you have lain me here,
in silence twixt the parted waters,
in lives fixed on departing daughters,
in time mixed with divided tribes.
Violent undecided orphans.

12/24/2009

Posted on 12/25/2009
Copyright © 2024 Ryan Nardi

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