Skyward to the West; the summer blue Has wrapped his warm arms ‘round my fractured heart, Has lifted this poor soul now twice run through, And yet I fear my faith has come apart, For everywhere I turn I see his face, And as the wind whips ‘round me evermore, The clarity of him cannot outpace, The darkness of this maddening languor, This pain; this grief; this ever-present thorn, With needle tip,…
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