THE LAND OF LONG SHADOWS

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In this land of long shadows and no flowers,
With no hint of yellow or red,
Or even a bit of blue peaking through,
There are dull greys and blacks.

This is me.

I stand on the edge of what was,
And then kneel–
A quiet little martyr,
Among the silent trees.

There are no lies.
No whispers.
No sound.
No end.

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