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Friday, August 22, 2014

Ghost

The winds are coming to grab me as they ravish the land.
On my soul they heed scattering my life as though it were sand.
Echoing sounds torment as they howl to drown my cries.
Gusts lash my back and whip my face from the storms fury I can't escape.
Where do I run where do I go what in my life doesn't the wind know.
Where I breath the wind brings me life lungs fill with air as it cuts like a knife.
Torment follows with the passing breeze let death find me hurry please.

I have edited this and I am not sure of the ending.  I try not to step to far over the line into depression and I think I have with this poem.

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