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Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Emily Dickinson Pastiche 2

16

Hell’s Mouth opened-
As I reached out-
To touch not The Heavens-
But this work of Art-

The taste of poison-
Strong like the wind
I pray to carry me-
Far, far from this land

Yet something moves distant-
A shadow far between-
All my love of earth-
And Satan’s own decree-

Hearts all around me-
Digging their own Grave-
Whilst in the Heartland-
Glad to be alive-
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