Another one falls
Fierce beyond the grave we rise
Living past their gaze.
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More stories from Test and writers in Poets and other communities.
After seven years the curse broken into wind new dawn on my face
By Test7 months ago in Poets
βand you call me embarrassing. your words sting, dripping with venom, sending my body into panic. I cry, half anger / half devastation.
By katherine j zumpanoabout 13 hours ago in Poets
I think sitting out here under the moon and the stars makes me more poetic. It's better than sitting in an empty house.
By Colleen Walters3 days ago in Poets
βDuring the Metal Age, humans took photographs of everything beautiful, which was everything, yet machines did not even wear shoes. The Fauxna thought of a better way. They colored all of the light rose, for a corrupted source cannot be verified.β - Origin Parable, 011
By Nicky Frankly2 days ago in Fiction
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