Then, as a single snowflake flares and flickers upon voicing its final breath, so two eyes make silent conversation with mine. A face as iridescent as candle-fire purls verse and poetry. My eyes read her every intent as a wave of recollections floods my senses.
Craig FromanIn freedom you form in utter disgrace,
the bars of my prison this night.
While you drift on currents of seraphim heights,
it is I who deserve to take flight.
Tags: disillusionment pain sorrow
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