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  • Writer's picture~ Vin


The call came through the wind.

A breeze that did not cool,

And did not soothe.

It Awoke a fire within,

Choking on ashes of words unsaid.

"How do I make it stop?" I asked.

Release the words clenched upon your soul,

Aimed only to stain your spirit.

Make of these woes true magnificence,

A beauty so pure they evaporate.

May your magic be feared in the most reverent way.

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