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Absence of Mind...

As always,
the wind gusts
n' crisp autumn leaves
chase shadows
along guttered thought...

There's a comfort,
indescribable
when that cold
palm embeds itself
unto the gut
of loneliness's aura...

Chaffed, n' brittle,
spirits disembark
leavin' in it's wake...
dead, silent, screams
of a once, semi-cohesive
stirrin' of a stentorian presence...
Written by Poetikmind (_---_)
Published
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