Tierra Del Fuego
By Myndstorm
Fri, 22 Jan 2010
- 429 reads
Cold, Distant, like the moon
In savage grace, standing
Majestic in the pain of being empty
But then you said my name,
Poured gasoline on my name,
Syllables striking a match
in me, I burst, explode,
Ignited like Hiroshima
That fateful day.
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