Friday, May 21, 2010

My Poem

So cold is the night
So cold is the dawn
From the shadows a fright
From the allies I warn
The man who walks through glass
The man who who fights his soul
The man who is born from ash
The man who sleeps in a hole
Walking through life with his head down
Wearing darkened tattered cloths
Wearing on his shoulders the weight of the town
Around him fly the moths
Around him they don't make a sound

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