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I, Tourniquet...

 

Alas, for  her broken soul
thy stem,  of the bloodshed
attempt to repair whole...

Bandage of  fragile part
wrapped in security
assured thee, thou
shall protect thine heart

Profusion staid his confusion
doesth she query this
aid-protrusion?

Nay, for thee today
remnants of a past soul's decline
shines gratuitous light
back into this broken hole
of mine...







Written by Poetikmind (_---_)
Published
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