Dead Stones

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    Still, that angelic smile
    Can move mountains;
    Droughts begin, droughts end,
    Flourish spring fountains.

    Still, that toss of hair
    Can hammer in nails, turn
    My heart cold, a coffin,
    Disturb forgotten scars, burnt

    In corners, disheveled ashes
    Where wounds, stabs, gashes
    Left Troy in tears;
    Still, those innocence, lashes

    Can invert a heart that strives
    To walk by right;
    Subvert shudders, reduce air,
    Increase light… the likes.

    O’ —, won’t you ever let me
    Redeem my place, integrity?
    Or are those dead stones yours
    Forever, down the days, years?



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