Fought for sport, tied in a knot;
Moving blandly, forced from a spot.
Terrain that holds a heroic hand,
Counting footsteps in a distant land.
Raised by wolves, a fiery chasm,
Spurning jaws with teeth in spasm.
The wings of fate soared past, livid;
Caressing thoughts, remaining vivid.
Colors worn out with wintry mixes,
Nature fastens what it fixes.

Posted In: Poems

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