Echo
Salted to be a fake, welcome to my world -
The tree which grows into nothing -
Inside me -
Never wants to be a tree that sees -
Instead it is stuck with me -
Black my mind to the wind -
Dark are the stars which shades to shine from behind -
Rings of ice, fingered to vanity -
Blistered by my sanity -
Fall into my descend -
Ascent before the blow -
Echoes of my call
poem by Unic Cjonr
Added by Poetry Lover
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