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Who Knew?

I can feel my heart beating
aching in my chest
crying out for your blood.


Dearest one, you do not cry
no tears to be shed
only sand from dried up hues.


Stories of yore tell of his love for her
but she is a ragdoll of fate
consumed by her destiny, she waits.


Wings spread wide
the Angel doth die
fallen to pieces.


The Wind speaks of a frail story
of a love once held for you
but broken are the pieces of my soul.


You broke them,
Who knew?

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