Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Poem Draft

At White Sulphur Springs

In the darkness and cold,
though the winds rise to wail,
we will stand, and our hearts
shall not fail.

From the heat of the earth
we were born, we were made,
with a flame in our minds
like a blade.

Though the ice-shackles form,
though the gales come in force,
we will draw endless warmth
from our source.

1 comment:

  1. Brigitte11:29 AM

    Thank you, Brandon. I had greatly missed your drafts.


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