Mechanical Manifest
Escalate my vision,
sedated in isolation,
captivated in remission.
I feel no hate,
no leaves that burn my fingers,
as autumn lays down her head,
only crimson shades that waft,
into the blazing light.
I am coming down,
with the strain on my heart,
placed there by your hand,
which nourishes my soul,
cracking with smiles.
poem by Kristian Cura
Added by Poetry Lover
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