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The Trail to My Heart


The trail to my heart,
cold and frozen.
Bidden with flakes of despair,
parched and crest fallen.
The scissor of fate passes by,
darkness and anguish.
The search for the remaining imprints,
spring and revival.
A new trail starts,
warm and radiant.
Bidden with flakes of hope,
Triumph and trumpetings...

Comments

  1. Just wonderful tashic. Keep on writing and sqeeze everything out and let the poetic juice flow marey!

    ReplyDelete

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