The Year
A day that dawns will never come without release to want it. A night to begin will live in sin because the world feels a need. An autumn to fall a time of death to celebrate with color. A winter to shiver through blankets and snow of an ice life with fire. A spring to let sprung of life that starts all over – once again. A summer to swelter to think of colder days imagine the heat turns to snow. All this happens between the days and the nights the dead leaves that fall to grow and the fire and ice.
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I write because it's how I speak to the world.
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