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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1914273
An ode about a mistake made.. can you change it?
Oh, the Winter's cold breath blows,
  Cold as frost's own heart is mine.
Hast thou stopped the river's flow,
  No longer blood as blooming vine?
Thy song is sung as sirens sweet,
  Allure to thee the faith of man,
And shock the soul cease heart to beat.
  Thy music echoes through the void
Min fate is balanced by thy hand.
© Copyright 2013 Michael McDaniel (m1k3mcd at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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