The Trees, The River

The Prompt Pit

Taking a step into a paradise marsh,

reeds cut my skin as I run and I'm home. 

The gravitas that lures me there is strange,

But I see that palace and I'm no longer alone. 

To me, it's a barn or a cave or a car

Where we shelter for months, in its warmth, to hide.

The baron heath whistles cold and subdued,

Which pales to its heart of glowing embers inside.

But there's more to the trees and the river, my dear, 

My place in this world is as Sad Silent Slave.

We dread and we wait, to your Kingdom we go,

and the days spent there are where my Heaven's made.

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