Empty Beds

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I miss the human warmth,

in all of these connections.

A soul laying weight besides,

un-tethered in its cryptic glory.

the feel of a gentle cheek,

on the hurting trembling chin.

A wave of flowing hair,

caressing the fingertips of sin.

When exactly did I stumble this far beyond?

Seeking warmth in an ocean of glacial spawn.

Where exactly does my rest belong?

Searching aethers for the ever-gone.

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Freestyle Poetry

a poem for the ones in struggle fighting for their peace. Run through the hardships and let your lives be free because even when trouble catches up may your hearts content keep you moving on.

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In these gentle arms i rest,

the breeze that touches

silver sweat.

Security is a slumber mess,

but in the warmth we lay unscathed.

The irony shall play it through,

when fires burn in ice blue

and frozen over shall we rest.

Warmth at heart,

in shiny dread.

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