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Unsettled Roots
You stand
naked but oblivious
until the frost clings to your limbs
as I once clung to memories.
Don’t you long to be free
of them, those eyes of fallen angels?
They hide your potential,
burying it beneath layers of ice
and seasons of change.
If you had the ability to think
and the patience to listen,
I could wipe away those tragic tears.
Instead you wilt,
weeping a silent solace
where only seraphim fly.
