Mediu
When skies ignite from mouths of hell
the ocean cries with tears of dust
With shadows still the fiord’s shell
will shrink the space, the time and lust
Those drums that beat the walls of heart
will push the strings of pain below
The wooden dock will send a dart
with panic, from the terror’s bow
A scream has brought the humble soul
within the borders drawn by angst,
in silent birth; death brings a toll,
that turns the body back in dust
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