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The Fall

Someone once told me: "There is no heartache like the fall of an idealist." I no longer remember who it was, but I haven't been able to shake their words. So here is The Fall- with perhaps a hint of a resurrection too. The Fall The foundation has given. Years of wear finally win. The soil reaches up To swallow What they created. The girl, Tiny, Broken, Lost, Claws up out of the ground. The pylons That once supported And promised To lift her into the sky Now hold her captive. She screams. But the dirt pushes down Into her lungs. She does not cry, Does not collapse. Instead she hardens. Eyes darkened. Heart scabbed. Soul frozen. She does not blink But glares in Contempt and anger At the broken structure. She failed. But she doesn't see. The clay and topsoil piled On her shoulders. There was supposed to be a platform A ladder-- Or shoulders to stand on. Kamagra Soft Tablets Another soft drug of this reputed brand is soft tablet. viagra sans prescription So, why is a blend formula like 176-191 peptide, that uses the same base "ingredients" still only in the research phase? When combining chemicals, anything that goes inside the body is you could look here cialis on line controlled and tested for a certain length of time, or until data supports the assumption. Probably this is your concern, as it is rare. (2) Any severe health concern like high blood pressure, type 2 diabetes, heart disorders, cancer or other associated conditions. viagra online no prescriptions Hopefully in coming free viagra in australia deeprootsmag.org years, researchers will come out with better options. A hand pulling her upward. She shakes her head. There is nothing. Nothing can be done. The soil too deep; The cement too strong. All is lost. But can you lose something that was never there? The sun rises and sets Chased by the moon. Occasionally the colors catch In the corner of her eye. But she is impenetrable. It begins to rain. The soil tightens around her. Breathing slows. "You haven't put up much of a fight," The wind breathes. Lips pursed, Eyes forward, She says nothing. "Have you forgotten me?" It sings, tickling in her ear. She raises a dirt-caked hand To brush the voices away. The rain traces paths On her palm. She reaches up To wipe her lashes free of raindrops Staring at her clean palms Confused Awakened. There was never any rain.Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmail

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